


Meet Me At Sundown

by pcychedelic



Category: EXO (Band)
Genre: Additional Warnings In Author's Note, Alternate Universe - Soulmates, Angst, F/M, Fluff, Mild Sexual Content, like... a lot of fluff, seriously... read the content warnings in the notes at the beginning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-06-08
Updated: 2018-06-08
Packaged: 2019-05-18 12:08:53
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 31,687
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14852475
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/pcychedelic/pseuds/pcychedelic
Summary: The moon rises just as the sun is setting, and who would’ve thought that it would bring soulmates with it.





	Meet Me At Sundown

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer:  
> This is a work of fanfiction. Names, characters, businesses, organizations, places, events, and incidents may represent real entities, but are used fictitiously as a product of the author's imagination; this work does not mean them any harm or offense. This work is the intellectual property of the author and it, or any portion thereof, may not be reproduced or used in any manner whatsoever without the express written permission of the author.
> 
> Content Warning(s):  
> This work mentions car accidents, death, and mental health conditions (PTSD, anxiety, and the like). Please read with caution. The portrayal of aforementioned conditions and subsequent treatment (therapies, prescriptions, etc.) are based from research I have managed to do and my personal experiences with living with a mental health condition, doctors, and therapy. Even so, I apologize in advance if there are inaccuracies.
> 
> Author's Note:  
> After five long months, I've finally finished this piece! Yay! I started writing this in January 2018, and it was conceived during one of my Creative Writing classes where we were asked to write a premise and a short monologue/dialogue about any story we wanted. This has gone through a lot of revisions since then (the original plot was WAY different than the final product), and I hope that you enjoy this as much as I enjoyed writing it. Oh, and just a friendly piece of advice: make sure you have tissues near you as you read (the first person who read this before it was published ACTUALLY cried).
> 
> Dedication:  
> To B, who always brings light into my life;  
> To A, who never gets tired of my stories;  
> This is dedicated to them for inspiring me until the end.

**1.**

You watched as the setting sun bathed the streets in a warm glow. To you, everything looked better during the golden hour—no matter how many people and cars rushed against time, the seconds seemed to slow down as daylight rolled over your side of the Earth and went to illuminate the other.

“Hey. Are you listening?”

You glanced to your side and saw Chanyeol looking at you.

“Oh. I’m sorry. I was just looking at…”

“The sunset,” he chuckled. “Yeah. We all know how fascinated you are by sunsets.”

It was true. Sunsets were one of the few things that you could focus on without feeling like you were being suffocated. You weren’t allowed to do sports anymore, so when you weren’t working, you poured all your energy into painting. The pictures you painted somehow always gravitated towards sundown—the canvas would be smothered with orange hues whenever you felt good, and pink or purple replaced it when you weren’t. Even if you weren’t painting about the sky, those colors would always be present in your portraits, like they were the only colors that your mind knew.

You always had a thing for it, but after the incident, something felt different. It reminded you of something important but couldn’t quite remember.

“Sorry,” you smiled shyly. “What were you talking about again?”

“I said I had a dream.”

Jongin and Kyungsoo, who were seated across the table, looked up at the same time at Chanyeol’s last word. Chanyeol then started cutting his steak a little too excitedly.

 _Dream_.

You took a sip of water and swallowed slowly while you carefully chose your next words.

“Dream, as in… a regular dream or _that_ kind of dream?”

Dream wasn’t a word that was taken lightly. Technically, it meant the succession of random images in your head while you slept, but it also meant getting a glimpse of your future—your future partner, to be exact. The person you would be spending the rest of your life with will appear in a “special dream” and people who have experience this had said that you would just know when that dream comes.

A year ago, your sister woke you up in the middle of the night. She was sweating profusely for someone who slept with the air-conditioning blasted on high. At first, you thought that she had caught the flu and had woken you up because of the pain, but the smile that was plastered on her features told you otherwise. She described it as the best dream she ever had, the kind that you would never want to wake up from.

She had also said that from the moment you open your eyes, everything will seem to sparkle, like the last puzzle piece in your life had fallen into place and the world suddenly made sense. Last month, she married the man that she had woken you up for.

“That kind of dream,” Chanyeol confirmed. “ _The_ dream.”

Kyungsoo started taking a special interest in his half-eaten pasta and pursed his lips as if he wanted to say something. However, he remained quiet, and Jongin spoke up instead.

“What was it like?”

Chanyeol set down his fork and knife and stared at the window with a wistful smile on his lips.

“It was like… like a movie,” he began. “I dreamt that I was at work. I was working behind the booth, scanning through song requests for the show and suddenly this girl showed up and everything behind her became blurred. It was as if the world stopped spinning just to focus on her and when I looked at her face, she had this glow that warmed me up from head to toe and… and I just knew. I thought, ‘So this is what it feels like. This is what _the dream_ feels like.’”

You all looked at him in awe, amazed by how vivid he remembered it.

Usually, dreams are forgotten almost immediately after people wake up. The Dream, on the other hand, lingered in the subconscious forever, eternally branded at the back of people’s heads. Doctors and other scholars said that it was the only dream that we could remember from start to finish, which is probably the reason why people who had experienced it could narrate it perfectly, even the most insignificant details.

“Do you know who she is?” You asked.

Chanyeol shook his head, and you weren’t surprised. Most people get The Dream even if they haven’t met their significant other, or, rather, they haven’t realized that they already met them. This was because the human brain wasn’t capable of inventing faces, science explained. People subconsciously remembered the faces of strangers they have seen at some point in their lives, and their minds utilized them to fill in the gaps in their mental pictures when they dreamt.

For you, it seemed terrifying to know that your life was intertwined with someone that you didn’t even know well enough, but you didn’t mention this at the table because Chanyeol was obviously really happy about it.

You were happy for him too, but you couldn’t help but think about what could have been with him.

Chanyeol paid for the early dinner the four of you just had, saying that it was his treat for getting The Dream.

Kyungsoo asked if he could leave first because he didn’t feel well, and Jongin offered to drive him home and said that he shouldn’t take the subway if he was feeling sick. Kyungsoo nonchalantly accepted Jongin’s offer and you and Chanyeol waved goodbye at them as Jongin’s car pulled out of the parking lot and drove away.

You started walking away and Chanyeol had to jog to keep up with you.

“Hey, wait up,” he said as he wrapped an arm around your shoulder. “Where are you going? Are you going home?”

You shook your head and pointed at the smoking area just behind the restaurant that you ate at. “I want to smoke a stick or two before I come home to the essays that I need to grade. Is it just me or are twelfth graders getting dumber every year?”

Chanyeol laughed. “You’re too mean to be a teacher.”

“So I’ve heard.”

You took a stick out of your pack and lit it, the paper and tobacco cackling from the heat. You inhaled the cold November air along with the smoke, your lungs expanding to take in death, only to blow it out again. You flicked at the butt of the cigarette and watched as the grey ashes fell gingerly from the burning tip down to the ground, thinking of how much it resembled snow and how something so deadly could look like something beautiful.

“Hey,” Chanyeol softly said as he squeezed your free hand. “You’re spacing out again.”

It wasn’t like you did it on purpose, spacing out. It was part of the aftereffects of your trauma, your doctor had explained, how you could notice even the smallest details of things, from the sounds a person made while chewing to how the lights of the skyline that can be seen from your bedroom window flickered as if they were stars.

You were hyperaware of your surroundings, like your body automatically paid attention to every single thing to avoid trauma-related cues. Dr. Kim had associated it with the increase in your fight-or-flight response, a common symptom among people with whom you shared the same burden with.

“I’m sorry,” you apologized. “What were you saying?”

He sighed and looked at the moon, which hung too low in the night sky given how early into the night it was. “I said that you didn’t look too happy when I told you guys about The Dream.”

You took another drag of your cigarette while you thought of something to say. Were you that obvious?

“Of course I’m happy for you, what are you talking about?” You said as you exhaled smoke. “I just… I thought of how afraid I would’ve been if I dreamt of someone I haven’t met yet. I think it’s easier to fall in love when you know who they are.”

You weren’t exactly lying, but Chanyeol scoffed anyway, knowing all too well that you were holding something back. He knew you better than you knew yourself.

“Sure.”

“Yeol,” you sighed. You knew where he was steering this conversation to. “You know we can’t talk about that anymore.”

Chanyeol looked down and put his hands inside his pockets. “About what?” He stupidly asked while kicking the pebbles on the pavement.

He already knew what you were pertaining to; he just wanted you to say it. He had tried to start this conversation with you at every chance he that he got, but you shut it down whenever he did.

It wasn’t because you didn’t want to talk about it; it was because you felt that it was unfair for the both of you to linger on something that just wasn’t meant to be. It did keep you up at night sometimes, but you didn’t want Chanyeol to do the same—especially now that The Dream came to him. It was like forcibly reopening a wound when your body had just began healing; it wasn’t right, and it definitely wasn’t healthy.

But you were also aware that no matter how many times you try to avoid having this conversation with him, he would just continue to bring it up until it blew up on both of your faces.

You exhaled. “Do you really want to talk about it?”

Chanyeol’s head snapped back up. “Yes.”

“Okay.” You put out your cigarette on the receptacle. “But I’m having this conversation with you just this once. Go.”

“Tell me honestly how you felt when you heard about my dream. No bullshit.”

He held out his pinky finger like a little kid, gesturing you to promise him that you would tell the truth.

You smiled despite rolling your eyes. “Alright,” you said, intertwining your pinkies together and touching your thumb to his. “I wasn’t lying that I thought of how afraid I would be if that happened to me. But I wasn’t lying when I said that I was happy for you, either.”

“I know.”

“Our relationship is just so complicated, Yeol. You know that.” He nodded, listening intently. You continued, “We’ve been best friends for, what? Seven, eight years? And when you came to my place that night and hugged me and told me that you didn’t care about The Dream and you wanted to be with me… it terrified me. So much.”

You didn’t realize that you were shaking until Chanyeol pulled you into his chest and soothingly rubbed your back.

He was so warm—he always had been, and you couldn’t remember the last time that he hugged you like this. You didn’t want to cry, but your tears just flowed out from your eyes, staining his shirt.

“I wanted to say yes. God knows how much I wanted to. But that isn’t how the world works, Yeol. We couldn’t make it work even if we tried. There’s someone out there for the both of us, and that isn’t each other. Look, you found yours now,” you said breathlessly.

You looked up at him to gauge his expression at your admission. His huge, round eyes bore into yours and you could see a million different emotions stirring up inside them: love, hurt, but above all, sadness. His eyes gleamed with regret, and yours probably did too.

You hated The Dream.

It stopped you and Chanyeol from happening without even giving you the chance to begin. You hoped that you never get it, and from the countless textbooks that you have read, it was possible. Some people were destined to live their lives on their own without having someone waltz into their dream uninvited and you wanted to be just like them.

Who was the universe to decide your other half for you? It was unfair. It was cruel. It was painful.

Chanyeol kissed your forehead and you held your breath to stop yourself from crying even harder.

“If you’re happy for me, why are you crying?” He softly asked.

“I just hate the world.”

He chuckled as he hugged you even tighter. “That makes two of us.”

 

The walk home had been silent, neither you nor Chanyeol said a word while you strolled through the streets holding hands.

At first you declined when he offered to walk you home because you didn’t want to burden him, but he just smiled goofily and said, “I didn’t bring a car so I’m walking whether I take you home or not, so might as well.”

You walked everywhere, and even though it was tiring, it was where your mind was at peace.

You knew that Chanyeol didn’t bring a car on purpose just so he could walk you home, and you hated how your heart swelled at the gesture. He was perfect, fictional-character-type-of-perfect, but like all other perfect things, he just wasn’t for you.

You gently rubbed your thumb against the back of his hand, thinking that it would be nice if the two of you ended up together in some alternate universe or in your next life.

If reincarnation was real, you would still want to be born as a part of his life, and you hoped that the universe would decide to be generous once and for all and let be reborn as his other half.

“Well, this is me,” you said as the two of you arrive at your front door. You turned around to face Chanyeol, your hand still linked with his. “I’ll see you tomorrow?”

“You’ll see me every day.”

You chuckled. “Yeah, don’t make such rash promises.”

You tried to slip your hand off of his but he pulled it back until you were once again engulfed in his embrace.

“I mean it,” he whispered against your ear. “You’ll always be my first love.” He kissed your cheek before pulling away. “Goodnight.”

That night, you dreamt of being at the beach, your body dipping into the soft, white sand and your eyes looking at the sunset.

The sky was painted with a thousand different colors, not just the usual orange, pink, or purple that you used when you painted. The kaleidoscope of hues reflected onto the water where they seemed to dance along with the ocean and you just wanted to drown in all the colors.

It was the most beautiful sunset that you have ever seen, even in your dreams, but you were so focused on taking in its beauty and you failed to realize that the sunset was ending.

At the final second, just before the sun drowned into the water and took all the colors in the sky with it, you saw a green flash burst from where the sun last peeked and you felt something that you thought you had forgotten—hope.

**2.**

You shifted uncomfortably in your seat as your eyes traveled across the room full of students hunched over their desks, answering a piece of paper that accounted for a part of the fifteen percent of their final marks.

Quiz day had always been a day that you hated because the stillness in the air amplified even the softest sounds—the whirring of the air-conditioning vents, the gliding of pens over paper, the exhaling of students who looked up at the ceiling as if they were expecting answers to magically fall on their answer sheets.

You once found solitude in silence, but now it was unbearable. Your senses were on alert and a deafening siren blared inside your head, your body begging for any kind of distraction from the quiet that surrounded you.

You closed your eyes and rhythmically tapped your fingertips on your desk, mentally counting down the seconds as they ticked by, just like Dr. Kim had instructed you to do when you found yourself in situations like this.

You had counted up to thirty-one when the timer on your phone finally went off, signaling the end of the quiz. The class collectively sighed when you stood up from your seat and asked them to pass their papers forward.

“Most of the essays I graded last night failed to impress me,” you announced as you collected the papers from those seated at the front row. “I did find a few ones interesting, though. Sehun’s paper, in particular, was the most striking.”

The class turned to face the tall boy at the back, and he shrunk from the unwanted attention. He rarely spoke up in discussions, but whenever he passed a write-up, it would be so succinct and well-written that you wouldn’t believe that it came from the most timid boy in class.

“Sehun, please share with the class what you wrote about Shakespeare’s A Midsummer Night’s Dream in your essay,” you smiled softly as you nodded at him, encouraging him silently.

Color rose to his cheeks, tainting his pale skin with a light pink shade that softened his strong features.

“I, uh…” He hesitated as he looked at your for help and you gave him a reassuring smile, wordlessly telling him that it was okay. He continued, “I likened it to The Dream. The four protagonists woke up falling in love with the person they should be with, thanks to the potion given to them by the puck…” He sat up a little straighter. “Isn’t that what The Dream does to us? We just wake up one day knowing that we’re supposed to love this person as dictated by fate, just like how Demetrius and Lysander were dictated by the puck’s potion.”

After Sehun spoke, the room went still. This was one of the rare moments when you didn’t mind the quiet: when the class fell silent but their minds traveled at the speed of light.

It was when you knew your students had learned something new, when they froze for a moment and thought so hard you could almost see the gears turning inside their minds.

Teaching wasn’t the most glamorous profession and sometimes it made you want to rip out all of the hair on your scalp, but it was moments like this that reminded you why you chose this job in the first place.

“Thank you, Sehun,” you said with a proud smile. “What do you think about what he just said? Do you agree or disagree?” You asked the class.

“It does resemble how The Dream works,” Jihyo, the girl seated in front of Sehun, said. “The puck didn’t give them the chance to choose who to love, just like how we aren’t given ours. It makes me think of how it can even be considered as love when we aren’t given a choice in the first place. Isn’t that deception? Doesn’t it make love simply an illusion?”

“Correct,” you affirmed. “Illusion is one of the central themes of the story. The protagonists were made to believe that everything that happened in the forest was all in their heads, same as how the puck broke the fourth wall at the end and told the audience to think that the play was just a dream if they found it distasteful. But I guess the illusion depicted in A Midsummer Night’s Dream gives off a different connotation in our society.” You glanced at your gold wristwatch, the minute hand displaying that you didn’t have much time left. “Any more questions?”

You were surprised when Sehun slowly raised his hand.

“Have you had The Dream?”

You gave him a small smile. “Not yet.”

* * *

Dr. Kim’s office was just a few minutes away from where you worked, situated in a busy avenue at the heart of town.

You lived in a quiet neighborhood at the far end of town, and even though it was quite a walk from the clinic, you were grateful that you had the day’s session with him to ponder on and keep your thoughts company as you walked home.

Joohyun, his assistant, greeted you with a smile as soon as you entered the clinic.

“You’re a bit too early for your session,” she said as she scanned through the day’s appointments on her clipboard. “But Dr. Kim doesn’t have any patients right now so you could probably go in. I’ll just let him know.” She smiled at you and then picked up the telephone on her desk, calling Dr. Kim to inform him that you were already there. “He’s ready for you.”

“Thank you, Joohyun,” you said. “Are we still on for karaoke night?”

She laughed. “Definitely.”

When you entered Dr. Kim’s office, he was already seated on the sofa, reviewing his notes from your previous sessions. He noticed you and stood up to bow, and then gestured for you to sit on the couch opposite him.

His office didn’t look like a doctor’s office. It was like a rich person’s living room—the furniture was sleek and modern, the tables and shelves were adorned with succulents, and quirky lights hung from the high ceiling.

Your favorite feature of the place was the window that ran from the ceiling down to the floor and had the perfect view of the town’s skyline, and on days when you were lucky enough to have a schedule with him at around 5:30 p.m., the huge window acted like a frame for the masterpiece that was the sunset, although that happened rarely as you normally had your consultations with Dr. Kim before noon or in the evening.

“Why are you so early?” He asked with a small chuckle.

“Sorry, Dr. Kim,” you said as you sat down. “My last class ended early.”

“How many times do I have to tell you to call me Junmyeon?” He sighed. “I’m your sister’s best friend.”

“It feels weird… but I’ll try,” you laughed.

“Shall we start?”

The session started the way it usually did. He asked about you about how your day went and if something happened that had triggered you.

You told him about quiz day and how you discussed A Midsummer Night’s Dream with your class today, but apart from the queasiness that you normally felt on quiz days when the classroom became too quiet for your liking, nothing big happened to trigger another episode.

The past week had been boring, actually, but you knew that falling back into your routine was good and that it meant that you were getting better. But there _was_ one thing…

“Chanyeol had The Dream a few days ago.”

“Chanyeol?” Junmyeon looked up from writing down on his notes. “Your best friend?” You nodded. “Did that bother you because…” You nodded again, and he didn’t have to finish his sentence.

He knew about the long history that you and Chanyeol had, not because he was prying into your personal life—which was probably in his job description, anyway—but because he had to know if The Dream had visited you.

You told him no then, and he asked if you ever came close to it, like uncharacteristically falling in love before The Dream came. That was how he knew what happened between you and Chanyeol.

Yes, you weren’t fond of The Dream because it didn’t let you love the person that you wanted, but the thing with people like you was that The Dream came to you differently, or rather, your brain perceived it differently.

Some would fail to realize that it was The Dream and think that it was just another hallucination. In worse cases, The Dream drove them mad.

It was dangerous for people like you, and that was part of the reason why you were so terrified of having it.

“How did you feel when he told you about it?”

“I felt happy for him,” you said truthfully. “But… I also felt sad. I wondered if we’ll finally end up together in our next lives. Regret is the more correct term, I think. We could’ve been so many things, but the world obviously has other plans.”

Junmyeon furrowed his eyebrows and looked at his notes intently. You could tell he was thinking hard of something. The office was silent for a few minutes and it made you uncomfortable so you spoke up once again.

“Is that a bad thing?”

He shook his head and smiled. “It’s perfectly normal. I know a lot of people that fell in love way before The Dream came to them. I’m sorry if I worried you or something. I was just thinking…”

“About what?”

He stood up and walked over to his desk. He pulled out a piece of paper from one of his drawers and made his way back to where he was seated.

“This,” he said as he handed you what he had retrieved. “I was thinking about how we should prepare for when The Dream comes to you.”

The paper was folded like a brochure, with the text _A Guide to The Dream_ printed on the front page in bold letters. Beneath the title, written in smaller text was _Dr. Kim Minseok, M.D., dream specialist and oneirologist_.

“The Dream comes on its own time, but sometimes it can come early when something prompts it,” Junmyeon said. “A close friend or relative may get The Dream, and the next thing you know, it comes to you as well. In your case, I think Chanyeol’s dream may possibly have an effect on your, given your, uh… relationship with him.”

You frowned. “Should I be worried?”

“Not at all,” he calmly stated. “Like I said, The Dream comes on its own time, but sometimes your interpersonal relationships have an effect on its arrival. I’m just saying that you should be ready. If it comes, tell me right away. You have my number, right?” You nodded. “I’ll immediately arrange a schedule for you with Minseok when that happens.”

“This other Dr. Kim… you know him?”

Junmyeon chuckled. “He’s my older brother.”

“Oh.”

“I’m not recommending him because of that,” he smiled. “I’m recommending him because as a medical professional myself, I think he’s the best oneirologist out there, and I know a lot of people.”

You hoped that you wouldn’t get to visit the other Dr. Kim for a long, long time, not because you didn’t want to meet him, but because you didn’t want to face The Dream just yet.

You had just come to terms with Chanyeol, but more than that, you weren’t sure if you could live with knowing that someone out there was destined to love you, flaws and all. You had many imperfections, that, you were sure of, but what if your soulmate realizes that they can’t handle you? What if you weren’t the kind of person they hoped they would end up with?

“Some people don’t get The Dream, don’t they?”

Junmyeon blinked rapidly, taken aback by your question. “I have read about rare cases like that, yes. Why?”

You looked out the window to avoid his questioning gaze. “What if I’m a rare case?”

“We won’t know that until you get past the age of getting The Dream, and that’s like three decades and a half from now,” he chuckled. “That’s still a really long way to go.”

“Yeah, I know. I’m sorry,” you sighed. “I tend to get ahead of myself most of the time.”

“That’s okay. It’s normal to get nervous about what might happen.” Junmyeon stood up from the sofa and transferred to his desk. “CBT seems to be working excellently on you. We’re making good progress,” he said as he typed away on his computer. “Have you stopped or at least tried to stop smoking?”

Silence.

If Junmyeon was disappointed, he didn’t show it. “That’s okay. Just try to keep it at a minimum. It kind of slows down treatment, but if you feel like it helps calm you somehow, it’s okay. Just try to take it down a notch, hm?”

You nodded and thanked him for his hard work for the day. You left the clinic and went home, and for the first time in a long while, your thoughts were silent as you walked away from the noise of the busy town center.

* * *

Nightmares visited less often now, but when you did have them, they all started the same way.

You were in a moving car; hills dotted with tress rolled pass your line of sight as you looked out the window. The sunset was nowhere to be seen but somehow you know that it was the late afternoon as everything outside was covered in a violent shade of orange, like the air was on fire.

Unlike in your previous nightmares, however, you weren’t driving. You were in the passenger seat, your left hand linked to another’s. You weren’t anxious from being in a car, which surprised you.

You looked up to see who was driving, but he wasn’t someone you already knew. Confused, you tried to slip your hand away from his, but you couldn’t move. You opened your mouth to ask who he was but no sound left your lips. You just sat there and looked at him; only realizing just now that he was probably the most beautiful man that you have ever seen.

He looked good even though you could only see half of his face. He had a defined jaw, his thin lips seemed to be perpetually pouted, and his downturned eyes were focused on the road.

His free hand rested comfortably on the steering wheel, his slender fingers tapping against the leather as he hummed an unfamiliar yet soothing tune.

His most striking feature was his hair. It was silver, but not the shocking kind. It was the color of moonlight—mesmerizing, radiant, and regal.

It reminded you of moonlight.

“What?” He asked as he turned his head to look at you, noticing how you were staring at him.

Even his voice was perfect, like butter melting above toast. He then gave off a smile that showed his teeth, and you swore to God that that was the most captivating smile on the face of the earth.

Warmth started spreading from your chest to your entire body, like how hot tea felt when it settled at the bottom of your stomach. It felt good. It felt comforting. It felt like everything was all right.

He focused his attention back to the road as he lifted your intertwined hands and brought the back of your palm to his lips. The kiss was soft and unassuming, but somehow it made shivers chase each other up and down your spine.

This wasn’t a nightmare, you realized.

It was a dream.

It was The Dream.

You woke with a start.

You sat up on your bed, the warm feeling from the dream not quite leaving your body just yet. You noticed that your room was covered in a peculiar silver light, and you looked out the window to see that the moon was bigger than it usually was, like it was just a stone’s throw away from where you sat.

It reminded you of the silver-haired man you just saw in your dream.

 _Moonlight_.

You grabbed your phone from under your pillow and called Junmyeon.

 

 

**3.**

You dismissed the class twenty minutes before the bell rang, slumping into your chair immediately when it ended as your students fixed their things before leaving the classroom. You rubbed your fingers on your temple, attempting to soothe away the headache that just won’t go away ever since you had your dream—The Dream, rather—about Moonlight.

That was the nickname you had given to the mystery man that barged into your slumber a few days ago. You didn’t name him that because you were fond of him; in fact, you felt the complete opposite. The medicine that you took to help you sleep better didn’t work like they used to after that little wretch appeared out of nowhere, and you had been waking up for the past few days feeling drained rather than feeling recharged.

It didn’t help that Moonlight popped inside your head every time you closed your eyes, his silver hair seared behind your eyelids like an embarrassing moment your brain wouldn’t shut up about, always giving an unsolicited reminder at every second of the day.

Junmyeon was right: you should’ve prepared for it instead of denying it, and now you were almost at your tipping point, on edge as ever, about to choke from the anxiety that it gave you.

When he picked up your call that night, his voice was still foggy from sleep—well, it was one o’clock in the morning—but the moment you mentioned about your dream, he said with his voice suddenly stern, _‘Let me put you on hold. I’ll get you an appointment with my brother.’_ A few moments later, he told you that he had set you up for Thursday.

Today was that day, and you just dismissed your last class.

You wanted to hold the lecture until the bell, but you were discussing Edgar Allan Poe’s A Dream Within a Dream today, which only worsened your already-sour mood. Last week, you had A Midsummer Night’s Dream, and now there was this stupid poem; it made you want to beat the lights out of the person who decided that this is what twelfth graders should be studying for Literature through next week.

“Are you feeling okay?” A voice asked in front of you.

You didn’t even realize that you had your eyes closed, and when you opened them, Sehun stood there looking at you with a worried expression.

You nodded and forced a smile on your lips. “Yeah. Yeah, I’m fine.”

“You just… seemed distracted today,” Sehun said as he fiddled with the strap of his backpack that hung on his right shoulder. “Like you’re here but your mind isn’t.”

 _My mind is here_ , you wanted to say. _A rascal’s just invading it_.

“I’m really okay, Sehun,” you said, and you didn’t have to force yourself to smile this time. Sehun looked like he was really concerned about you, and your heart warmed at the thought of it. “Have you thought about what I told you yesterday?”

The local newspaper was having an essay writing contest for high school students a couple of weeks from now, and all the English and Literature teachers in your school were asked to select at least one student from their classes to participate. Of course, Sehun was the first one that came to mind, as he always got the highest mark in class when it came to write-ups.

He looked down, and you saw his cheeks blush a little, not sure if he was embarrassed or afraid. He probably felt both.

“I’m still thinking about it,” he answered, and you could practically hear the lie in his voice.

You sighed. “Sehun, you’re a really talented writer. Trust me, I teach Literature for god’s sake. It would be a shame to put your talent to waste.” When he didn’t say anything after that, you added, “The contest is about six weeks from now. If you want to join and need help, you know where my office is.”

“Okay.” He gave you a small smile. “I hope you’ll feel better soon,” he said before leaving the room.

Just like how you knew he was lying about considering joining the contest, maybe he heard the lie in your voice too when you said you were okay.

* * *

After taking care of a few more things before you left the high school building, you were surprised to see Kyungsoo outside. He was leaning against his car with his hands inside his pockets, his face lighting up when he saw you walking towards him. It looked like he was waiting for you.

You approached him with a hug and asked, “What are you doing here?”

“Do you know a place where we can talk?”

You brought him to the far side of campus where there was a walkway lined with benches on either side. The place was surrounded with trees that showered the pavement with yellow and pink tufts of flowers you didn’t know the name for, and it reminded you of how pastel colors would wash the sky when your favorite time of the day came.

It was dubbed the Lovers’ Lane by students and faculty alike, but no one really came here often since it was quite the distance from the buildings that housed classes. You came here sometimes just to watch leaves and flowers fall from the trees, engulfed with the sound of branches rustling in the wind and flora softly hitting the ground—quiet but not stagnant, serene but not lifeless.

“What did you want to talk about?” You asked Kyungsoo as the two of you sat down on one of the stone benches that dotted the path.

Kyungsoo heaved a deep sigh, like he was about to finally get a baggage that weighed a million tons off of his chest. You had been friends with him as long as you had been friends with Chanyeol and he was one of the few people on this planet that you would take a bullet for.

As he looked at you, his eyes burned with an intensity you couldn’t quite put a finger on.

And then he told you about how he got The Dream the night before Chanyeol got his, and how Jongin was in it.

It didn’t surprise you, really. The two of them had always had this weird dynamic between them that was just a little bit over friendship, and you often wondered if they noticed it themselves. You wanted to smile and congratulate him, but the expression that he had stopped you from doing so. He looked remorseful—disappointed—and you couldn’t understand why.

“What’s wrong?” You asked, taking his hand into yours. “Aren’t you happy?”

“Is this something to be happy about? Am I _required_ to be happy when I get The Dream?”

Well, he did have a point. You, for one, weren’t happy when you had yours. It did make you feel something you never did before, a strange sensation that ignited your insides and catapulted your head to cloud nine, but after that feeling faded, all that lingered in your mind was that stupid little silver-haired pain in the ass that had a breathtaking smile that was too much for you to handle and for once in your life your brain didn’t want the distraction.

But you couldn’t say that to his face, so instead you said, “Don’t you think that it’s easier that it’s Jongin? You know him already. You don’t have to go through that awkward getting-to-know-you stage with your soulmate.”

“That’s the thing: I don’t want to be soulmates with him.”

You looked at him in surprise. “Why? You don’t like him?”

“It’s not that.” He ran his fingers through his hair—what was left of it, anyway, as he had a buzz cut—and sighed. “I don’t want to risk our friendship and tell him, ‘By the way, you’re my soulmate.’ What if he hasn’t had The Dream yet? He would probably look at me like I grew an eye on my forehead. I mean, I would if I were him.”

“But you’re not him,” you argued. “You’ll never know how he would react if you don’t ask him about it. Just casually sneak the topic in one of your conversations and work from there, look for signs.”

Kyungsoo scoffed. “Just ask me to jump off a building. I think that’s easier.”

He was right. At that moment, you realized that your previous notion about The Dream being easier when it was someone you knew was thrown out of the window because if anything, it was a whole lot harder. You had to take into consideration your prior relationship with that person, to look for indications that they had The Dream too and above all, to think of how to break it to them without forcing yourself on them.

One of the many annoying things about The Dream was that you and your other half may or may not get it at the same time. You couldn’t imagine how frightening it was, waiting for each other to talk about it, constantly reaching out in the dark, waiting for something concrete to hold onto. If both of you didn’t have the guts, it would just be an endless waiting game of who would say it first until it ate you up from the inside and left you hollow.

You froze for a moment, realizing that you, Chanyeol, Kyungsoo, maybe even Jongin, all had The Dream within the same month. Junmyeon was right; it was like a domino effect, how it worked—visiting one person after another in your circle like a sinking ship that took everything down along with it.

You tried hard not to make your realization obvious, but Kyungsoo noticed anyway.

“What? What’s wrong?” He asked.

You couldn’t bring yourself to tell anyone besides Junmyeon—and soon, the other Dr. Kim—about Moonlight just yet, afraid that if you talked about him, you would speak him into existence and he would suddenly show up in the flesh, and you weren’t ready to address the elephant in the room just yet.

“I just remembered I have a doctor’s appointment today.” It was sort of the truth. _Sort of_.

“Already? I thought you saw him only once a week.”

“Uh…” You racked your brain to come up with an excuse. “My mood’s been weird lately and I think that’s my body telling me to see my doctor just to check if everything’s okay.”

“You’re hiding something,” Kyungsoo said, narrowing his eyes. You were about to lie again and deny it, but he continued, “But I won’t pry it out of you. We all have something so hide, anyway. Just tell me what it is when you’re ready.”

You smiled at your friend lovingly, wondering what you did to deserve someone like him.

* * *

The only good thing about seeing the other Dr. Kim was that his clinic was a lot nearer to your place than Junmyeon’s was.

You weren’t exactly hyped to see another doctor—Junmyeon was enough for a lifetime—but it wasn’t like you had a choice, anyway. Your body’s response to The Dream wasn’t normal, you assumed, as the “magic” that your sister and Chanyeol talked about didn’t even last the night when you had it. You wanted answers even though you didn’t know what questions to ask, and maybe that was what you were about to learn today from Junmyeon’s brother.

If Junmyeon’s clinic looked like a wealthy man’s penthouse, the other Dr. Kim’s office seemed more like a temple than anything else: marble floors, miniature Corinthian pillars, and grey furniture defined the place. A huge painting of a man with wings lying down hung on one of the walls, and being the Greek mythology geek that you were, you knew that it was a painting of Morpheus by Jean-Bernard Restout.

“You must be the girl Junmyeon was talking about,” a voice softly said from behind you.

You turned around and saw a handsome man with a doctor’s coat on smiling at you, his eyes travelling back and forth between you and the painting you were examining.

If Junmyeon hadn’t told you that the man before you was his older brother, you wouldn’t have noticed it. They both had the same glassy skin, like they bathed in pure milk at the end of every day, but the resemblance stopped there. Junmyeon had slanted eyes whereas the other Dr. Kim had upturned and round ones that reminded you of how your sister’s cat sometimes stared at you like it knew every dirty secret that you had tried to hide.

You introduced yourself and then bowed. “Thank you for taking time to see me, uh, Dr. Kim.”

“Dr. Kim makes me feel so old,” he laughed. “Please, call me Minseok.”

What was it about the doctors you were seeing and them insisting you to call them by their first names? Couldn’t they just let you call them however you wanted to?

“Um, okay, Minseok,” you finally said. “I’ve been calling you ‘the other Dr. Kim’ in my mind ever since Junmyeon told me about you.”

Minseok laughed again. “You have a good sense of humor. I like that.” His eyes flickered once more at the painting and then asked, “Do you know what this is?”

“It’s Morpheus, the Greek god of dreams,” you answered. “It fits the whole ‘dream specialist’ image. You pay attention to detail. That’s nice.”

You didn’t know why you were speaking so comfortably with someone you just literally met, a doctor, no less, but Minseok had this peculiar aura to him that made you feel like you already knew him. Maybe it was his eyes, strong but gentle, or his smile, playful but not teasing. He radiated wisdom, but it wasn’t intimidating.

“Well, anyone who knows their Greek mythology is okay in my book,” he said as he sat down on one of the ash-colored sofas and crossed his legs. “Please take a seat.”

You hesitantly took a seat beside him and asked, “Are we starting right now?”

“Starting what?” He questioned as he playfully smiled once more.

“The session?”

He chuckled, but you knew he wasn’t mocking you. It seemed like he found you amusing, like you were a cute little lost puppy that he was playing around with. It didn’t offend you or anything; you just found it… odd. Odd in a way that you didn’t feel the need to build a wall around yourself like you usually did with strangers. It was disorienting but also strangely familiar.

“There are no ‘sessions’ in oneirology, my dear,” Minseok said. “The line between science and art are often blurred in this field, which makes it thrive on spontaneity. The Dream has a similar nature, if you can notice.”

“So… we’re starting.”

Minseok shook his head and smiled. “Junmyeon was right about you. You’re one interesting girl.” You were about to ask what his brother had said about you, but he continued, “Okay, yes, we’re starting. Everything started the moment I saw you staring at Morpheus. Now that I answered your question, tell me about yourself.”

You weren’t sure what he wanted to know, but you somehow knew that he wasn’t talking about The Dream. So you started off with the basics, which wasn’t really much since you were a boring person in general.

You had lived in this town all your life and you rarely did anything in or out of it, save for the times Chanyeol would drag your ass to different places for _‘A change in scenery,’_ he had said—the beach that was four hours away from town, the woods where he used to hike with his family, his favorite music store in his hometown—back when the two of you were in college.

Even though you had a sister, you had lived alone after she got married and your parents passed on. You moved out of their house, the memories of them too much for your heart to take on, so you used up half of your life savings to buy a nice little apartment at the west end of town, partly because you never liked how things moved fast in the center of the it, but mostly because the place had a nice view of the sunset, which you were rarely home to see, anyway.

Before the accident, you were an athlete, but since your limbs couldn’t handle sports anymore, you kept them busy by painting in your spare time apart from your job as a Literature teacher. It seemed that you had a lot of those, even with classes to teach in between, as the walls of your place were decorated with canvases too many to count with your two hands, most of them about the sky.

Minseok listened intently, not once interrupting you and you found it surprisingly easy to tell him about your mundane life even though you hadn’t even been in his presence for too long.

“That’s pretty much it,” you said when you finished narrating. “I live an uneventful life.”

“Living an uneventful life is relative,” Minseok laughed. “You know, you don’t seem like you’re suffering from… something at all.” You noted how he avoided using technicalities. “Junmyeon helped you a lot, didn’t he?”

“Yeah,” you agreed. “I don’t have the best memory but I think he said something about it being acute, and it was more likely to improve than the chronic kind. He also mentioned how I’ve improved a lot after three months, but then… it happened.”

Minseok nodded. “I was about to get to that. Let me guess, you had trouble sleeping again.”

“Yes.”

“I’ll tell Junmyeon to adjust his prescriptions,” Minseok said as he scribbled on a small notepad that was just the size of his palm which you noticed just now. “Any nightmares? Like violent and vivid ones that would wake you up at night and give you a hard time closing your eyes again? The patients like you that I used to consult mention things like that.”

Now that you thought about it, you didn’t have any bad dreams, even the usual that you had. They were just simply… well, dreams about Moonlight. Regular dreams, visions about him smiling and talking to you even though you never understood him. They were vivid, but they weren’t violent, at least, not in a way that your mind would consider them to be, but your body would react otherwise, like it didn’t welcome the thought of Moonlight coming into your life.

“No, there are no nightmares,” you said after a while. “I mean, they don’t really scare me, but they got a little too repetitive. I see him even if I close my eyes for a little while. I think that’s where the headaches are coming from, and it makes me irritable.”

“Ah, so it’s a man,” Minseok looked up from his notepad. “Do you know him?”

You shook your head. “I nicknamed him, though. I call him Moonlight.”

“Hm? Why Moonlight?”

“He has silver hair.”

Minseok chuckled. “You’re poetic.”

“Well, I do teach Literature.”

“Touché,” he smiled as he directed his attention back to writing. “You don’t know him, so it’s a Type B then.”

When you asked him about what that meant, he patiently explained that The Dream was classified into two types: Type A was when you dreamt of someone you already knew and Type B was when you didn’t. You and Chanyeol were Type Bs, while Kyungsoo and Jongin were As.

“Can I ask you something?” You questioned, and Minseok nodded without looking up from his notes. “How do I know when the person in my dream has dreamt about me too?”

He stopped scribbling for a split-second, and resumed like nothing happened. “For Tybe Bs, there are usually the obvious signs like they suddenly take interest in you even though the two of you just met, but you won’t really know if you don’t ask them. The latter also works for Type As.”

“Oh. Okay. I have another question.” He nodded, signaling you to go on. “What happens when you fall in love before The Dream?”

Minseok thought for a while. “Not much, really. It’s human nature to fall in love. That’s something we have no control over, but… sometimes people get a little too daring with love that they try to work against The Dream, dating people before it came to them. It never works, though. It all ends up the same—horribly.”

You thought about Chanyeol and it hurt like a good punch to the gut, and you couldn’t hide the bitterness in your voice when you spoke.

“I think that’s unfair.”

“Life has always been a dirty player. That’s not news,” Minseok laughed and put away his pen and notepad, shoving it in the front pocket of his doctor’s coat. “But life can also be a little merciful sometimes.”

“Yeah, I’ve never experienced that ‘sometime’ when life was merciful,” you muttered.

“Well, like I said, life’s a dirty player. She’s not merciful to everyone, and only a few people are lucky enough to witness her small mercy.” He leaned back more into the couch that the two of you shared, his eyes trained into yours like he was calculating your expression. “I call it The Vision.”

“What’s that?”

He crossed his arms across his chest and a smile tugged at the corners of his lips. “It’s when you know that you and your destined partner had The Dream at the same exact time. It’s really rare, only happens to a few people. A few days, weeks, or years, even, after meeting your soulmate in person, the two of you will be visited by it. It comes really randomly, and the funniest story I’ve heard about The Vision was that it came to a couple while they were having sex.”

It was the first time that you laughed a genuine one in a long while, temporarily forgetting that you were talking to a doctor and not a close friend.

“That would make a great story for their kids,” you said as you bit your lip to contain the laughter from behind your teeth. “What happens in The Vision, exactly?”

Minseok smiled knowingly. “The magic of it is that the two of you would see the exact moment when you first met. It doesn’t have to be a prolonged encounter, in the case of Type Bs. It can be the first time you saw each other, like a brief second of eye contact on the bus while you were on your way to work, things like that.”

It was indeed magical—the idea of anyone you encountered in the span of a day could potentially be the most significant person in your life.

The Dream was like a huge inconvenience for you—for all the right reasons—but now you were seeing it in a different light because of how Minseok was talking about it with so much passion and admiration for a phenomenon that happened once in a person’s very short life.  You understood now why people like him chose this profession: the possibilities were endless, like how humans had only explored less than five percent of the ocean or how the Milky Way was just a speck of dust among the infinite number of galaxies in outer space.

To think that The Dream came to people all around the world every day under different circumstances made you feel small, but it also made you realize how precious every single moment of life was.

Suddenly, noticing even the smallest details of things didn’t seem like a bad product of an unfortunate life-changing event in your case. Now, you wondered where you first saw Moonlight, if he was a stranger on the bus just like how Minseok said, and you regretted how you missed so many fleeting moments without taking the time to consider if they eventually had an effect in the bigger scheme of things.

“I think we’re almost done here,” Minseok announced as he looked at you, a ghost of a smile playing on his lips. “I just want to warn you to get ready to meet Moonlight sometime soon. The dreams you keep having, they’re an indication that your paths are about to cross.”

You didn’t know how you felt about that, but you were sure it wasn’t excitement. You swallowed hard, hoping that your anxiety went down with it.

* * *

The weekend passed by quickly, Moonlight not visiting your thoughts at every waking moment like he did last week.

You were supposed to visit Junmyeon earlier today but you had your scheduled session moved since it was Chanyeol’s birthday and he was throwing a party at his place tonight.

Chanyeol had invited a lot of people, most of them he met through work, which meant you were often left alone with Jongin and Kyungsoo, who, surprisingly, weren’t as awkward as you thought they would be after what you and Kyungsoo had talked about when he visited you in school. It was probably because almost everyone—except you, of course, as you weren’t allowed to drink—was tipsy, conversing in slurred tones and untamed laughter. It felt weird, being the most sober person in a party, especially in contrast to how you were at parties months ago.

You swayed to the beat of the music as it floated all throughout Chanyeol’s apartment, making you almost forget how the past week had been so shitty.

 _Almost_.

You saw him before he saw you, his silver-hair unmistakable among the sea of half-drunk people. He was with Chanyeol, you weren’t sure why, but they seemed to know each other as they both came up to you with smiles on their faces.

There was it again, the stunning smile that occupied your dreams and took your heart and left you breathless, but now it wasn’t just in a dream or in some distant memory, but in front of you, a part of an actual living, breathing person that Minseok had foreseen you would be meeting soon.

 _Too soon_.

You locked your gaze on his eyes, downturned like they were when you first met him in your sleep and it was hypnotizing, like an invisible string was pulling you towards him. You wouldn’t be surprised if he had his own gravitational field as he looked to majestic to be human, his dazzling smile that showed his perfect teeth put the sun to shame. He was just like how you dreamt he would be, radiant like a star too close to the Earth, a beautiful celestial body that you weren’t worth of looking upon, even from far away.

“Guys, this is Baekhyun,” Chanyeol said.

 _Baekhyun_.

Moonlight finally had a name.

 

 

**4.**

The Dream played over and over your mind like a song on repeat, the muffled sound of the party behind you not enough to break the spell, not enough to reel you back into reality. You counted, just as Junmyeon said you should whenever you needed a distraction, but the numbers were like smoke that disappeared from your mind as soon as you thought of them.

One, two, three…

_“What?” He asked as he turned his head to look at you, noticing how you were staring at him. Even his voice was perfect, like butter melting above toast. He then gave off a smile that showed his teeth, and you swore to God that that was the most captivating smile on the face of the earth._

Four, five…

_He focused his attention back to the road as he lifted your intertwined hands and brought the back of your palm to his lips. The kiss was soft and unassuming, but somehow it made shivers chase each other up and down your spine._

Six, seven, eight, nine…

_“Guys, this is Baekhyun.”_

Ten.

“Hey… Are you okay?”

Your eyes flew open, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo looking at you with concerned expressions. Chanyeol held your hand while Kyungsoo rubbed your back, both of them knowing all too well what to do when this kind of thing happened to you.

“I’m fine. I just… needed some air,” you lied.

“Your hands are really cold,” Chanyeol commented as he squeezed your hand, the warmth of his transferring to yours. “Are you sure you’re okay? What happened?”

Maybe it was time to tell them about The Dream, about Moonlight, about Baekhyun, but tonight just didn’t feel like the right time and Chanyeol’s party wasn’t the right place. You hated that you had somehow ruined it, your friends rushing to check up on you when they should be letting loose and having fun, which was an opportunity that came rarely with how busy everyone had become with their lives.

After Chanyeol introduced Baekhyun, you excused yourself from the group and lied that you wanted to smoke. When you didn’t come back for more than fifteen minutes, Chanyeol and Kyungsoo followed you.

You despised it, how you were always the one they had to look after, and even though you knew that you needed them, sometimes you wish you didn’t.

Baekhyun arrived to the scene before you could answer Chanyeol’s question. He had the same worried look as Chanyeol and Kyungsoo, as if he already knew that something was wrong before he even saw your face.

“Hey, is everything alright?” He asked to no one in particular, but you had a feeling that he was pertaining to you. “Was it something I said?”

“God, no,” you replied a little too quickly. “You didn’t do anything wrong, I’m just—”

“She’s going through some… things,” Chanyeol finished for you. “It’s okay, Baek. Go back to the party. Everything’s okay.”

“Are you sure?” Baekhyun asked him, but his eyes never left you.

God, those eyes.

They were mesmerizing, just like the rest of him. They were deep and soulful, but also gleamed mischief and playfulness although they were laced with concern right now. People had always said that if you wanted to read someone’s mind, you should look into their eyes, and now Baekhyun’s eyes were asking you a million different questions that never left his lips, but you knew he was asking them.

The two of you looked at each other a little longer than strangers usually did, but it was strange, how the feeling of uneasiness never came at the contact, as if you knew one another from a different time.

It was like déjà vu: it felt so familiar yet you knew it was new, comforting even though it should be disorienting. It made you forget about The Dream replaying in your head like a broken record, now that the subject of it was here, like your mind just wanted to reassure itself that Moonlight wasn’t something that you had just made up, that he was Baekhyun, that he was here.

Chanyeol cleared his throat, breaking the gaze you and Baekhyun were sharing. “Uh… do you want to stay here or do you want to go home? I can take you home.” His hand was still holding yours, rubbing the back of your palm.

You sighed. This was exactly what you didn’t want to happen, the fun being cut short because you were really just a walking inconvenience. “You don’t have to do that, Yeol. Really, I’m fine. It’s your birthday. You don’t have to worry about me. You shouldn’t be worrying about anyone but yourself.”

“I don’t care if it’s my birthday,” he said as he took you into his arms, the warmth of his body washing away what was left of the anxiety that you were feeling. “I don’t care what day it is. I just want to make sure you’re okay.”

“You’re really stubborn,” you exhaled against his chest.

“Look who’s talking.”

It was these kinds of moments that reminded you of what could have been between you and Chanyeol—the seemingly harmless jokes that weighed more than they should have and held subliminal meanings.

Yes, you had accepted that this was all there was to it, that this was all there will be to it, but it still hit a sore spot in your heart, a space that will be Chanyeol’s for all eternity. This time, however, the pain wasn’t as strong as it was, not with the person you were destined to be with standing behind him.

Baekhyun was still looking at you, his face still wearing the same troubled look. The hurt that you felt when Chanyeol told you about his dream reduced to a dull ache, now that Baekhyun was there to remind you that there was life after your what-could-have-beens. It was just up to you how to act upon it.

“She’s right, Yeol,” Kyungsoo said. “Go back to your party. People will be worried. I’ll take her home, if she lets me.”

You broke away from Chanyeol’s embrace. “Are you sure, Soo? What about Jongin?”

“What about him?” Kyungsoo asked with a shrug. “He’s wasted, anyway. He passed out on the couch. He’ll live.”

You looked at Chanyeol and nodded, settling with Kyungsoo to be the one to take you home.

You turned to Baekhyun and apologized, “I’m sorry for worrying you and ruining your night. I’m just not in the best state of mind right now.” That was probably the biggest understatement you had ever said. “I’m sorry we had to meet like this.”

Baekhyun smiled tenderly, which did things to your heart. “I guess we’ll have to meet all over again, if that’s the case.”

* * *

“So… what’s up with you and Chanyeol’s friend?” Kyungsoo asked as he raided your drawers, looking for clothes to change in for the night. The three of them—him, Chanyeol, and Jongin—had clothes in your place for reasons you couldn’t understand, but it was convenient for when they decided to spend the night with you, usually when they witnessed one of your episodes, which happened pretty often before. “What’s his name? Baek… something?”

“Baekhyun,” you corrected him. You stared at your ceiling as you lied down on your bed, your body still feeling numb from what happened earlier. “What do you mean ‘what’s up with us’? Nothing’s up with us. We just met.”

Kyungsoo snorted as he entered the bathroom with fresh clothes in his hands. “So that weird little staring contest the two of you were having was just ‘nothing’, huh?” He shouted. “I’m many things, but I’m not blind.”

The bathroom door opened a few moments later, revealing the questioning look Kyungsoo had on his face.

He threw his used clothes into the hamper just outside your bathroom and then walked towards you. He asked you to scoot over to give him enough space and he settled on the spot beside you, his body dipping into the mattress.

It never bothered you, sharing a bed with Kyungsoo—or any of your friends, for that matter. Maybe it was because the three of you had literally grown up together, the boundaries of personal space diminishing over time.

“So,” Kyungsoo began as he leaned on his side to face you. “What is it?”

You looked at him, his features looking soft in your dimly-lit bedroom. His round eyes had always been expressive, and you could see from how he was looking at you that he wouldn’t forget about this topic even after some time.

You bit your lip and stared again at the ceiling, calculating in your mind if you should tell him about who Baekhyun really was for you.

It wasn’t because you wanted to keep it a secret forever, it was just that you weren’t sure if it was right to let the cat out of the bag before something even happened between the two of you, afraid that you would jinx it and something bad would happen.

“You don’t have to talk about it right now if you don’t want to,” Kyungsoo said softly. “I know how it feels to have something pried out of your mouth. It doesn’t feel great. But it also doesn’t feel great when you keep things to yourself instead of sharing them with someone. Trust me, having someone to share the weight of the world with feels a lot better than carrying it all by yourself. That was why I came to visit you at school that day, because I felt like it was eating me up from the inside, and you were the only one I could think of to share it with.”

That was the problem, though. You already felt like a burden to the people around you and you didn’t want to add more weight by dumping your stupid feelings on them. But Kyungsoo did have a point—he always did whether you admitted it or not—and maybe it wasn’t considered adding more weight if the person wanted to carry it with you.

With a sigh, you said, “Remember how I said I was visiting a doctor that day?” Kyungsoo nodded. “I was visiting Dr. Kim’s brother. He’s an oneirologist, a dream specialist.”

“Holy shit.”

“Yeah,” you agreed, knowing that Kyungsoo had figured it out. “I had The Dream, maybe a week or so after you had yours and Chanyeol had his. Dr. Kim told me to tell him immediately because for people like me, having The Dream was dangerous. We don’t respond to it normally like other people do. I guess that was why I had a panic attack after I met Baekhyun in person.”

Kyungsoo said nothing, probably taking in the information you had just shared with him.

The two of you lied down in silence, the comforting kind, not the kind that made you want to spoon your eyeballs out of its sockets.

Baekhyun’s name hung in the air and it still felt surreal, how this was all happening to you when you had convinced yourself that your hatred for The Dream was enough to stop it from visiting you. God was probably laughing at you from heaven, thinking what a stupid little girl you were to think that it would never come to you just because you didn’t want it to.

“Jongin and I kissed,” Kyungsoo said, finally breaking the silence.

You sat up as soon as your mind registered the words that left his mouth, half-shocked and half-excited. They were finally happening, the two of your best friends in the world, and the happiness you felt for them was indescribable.

“Oh my god.”

“Yeah, I know. Stop giving me that stupid grin.” He smiled despite rolling his eyes. “I took your advice and just casually dropped the topic while we were having lunch yesterday at my place and then he looked at me and suddenly there was this weird thing that played before my eyes, like a dream even though I knew I was wide awake. I was back in elementary school and Jongin was there too. The memory was too old for me to remember, but I had this gut feeling that that was the first time we met.”

 _The Vision_ , Minseok had said. _It’s when you know that you and your destined partner had The Dream at the same exact time. It’s really rare, only happens to a few people._

“I knew what that meant,” Kyungsoo continued. “I read up a lot on The Dream. I guess Jongin did too, and the next thing I knew he was kissing me and I was kissing him back. Funny, how life works sometimes. You overthink something and then when it’s out of the way and it suddenly seems so trivial and stupid that you wish you could take back the time you were stressing about it.”

“I’m so happy for the two of you, Soo.”

Kyungsoo chuckled. “Thanks. I am too, but that’s not the point I’m trying to get across.”

You raised an eyebrow at him, unsure of where he was directing this conversation to.

“I’m talking about Baek-what’s-his-name,” he sighed.

“Baekhyun.”

“Whatever. That guy.” Kyungsoo waved his hand dismissively. “I know how you feel about The Dream. You’ve told me a million times while you were still crying about the sob story that happened between you and Chanyeol. What I’m trying to say is, maybe that’s what’s holding you back from the little guy.”

“You and Baekhyun are about the same height.”

“Shut up. I’m trying to sound smart here,” Kyungsoo playfully glared at you. “Anyway, what I’m getting at is _maybe_ you’re reacting the way you are partly because you haven’t fully moved on from that horrible chapter in your life when you thought Chanyeol was ‘the one’, even though there isn’t a single logical explanation as to why would that be.”

Kyungsoo didn’t say anything that you didn’t already know, but it made more sense when the words came from him and not just from the sane part of your mind that you barely listened to.

The fog in your head seemed to clear up a little with Kyungsoo’s help, and it made you realize that sometimes the best advice came from the people you least expected it to come from.

Kyungsoo never was the talkative type, and you knew how hard it was to get as much words as he had just said out of him on a normal day, so for him to tell you those things was a big deal.

Listening to other people was never your strongest suit, but maybe it wouldn’t hurt to take someone’s counsel this time.

You lied back down, snuggling against Kyungsoo with Moonlight’s voice ringing through your mind as you fell asleep.

 _I guess we’ll have to meet all over again_.

 

 

**5.**

The bed felt spacious when you woke up, the space that Kyungsoo had occupied last night empty.

A note from him sat on your bedside table, saying that he needed to leave early for work and he didn’t want to wake you up. He also reminded you to take your medicine before leaving for class, and your first one wasn’t until a few hours from now.

Tuesday mornings were free for you, but you always left your place before lunch time and you made it a habit to walk around town before heading to work because you knew that if you stayed in bed for a little longer, you wouldn’t want to get up for the rest of the day.

Greeting Mrs. Song, the pretty woman who owned your favorite bakery, had been a routine on days when you only had afternoon classes. She recently got married, her husband having the same good looks that she had, and you thought about how visually blessed their future children must be.

She smiled at you the moment you entered the shop, ordering her barista on duty to prepare your usual, a medium vanilla soy latte with three shots of expresso, while you picked out the pastry you wanted to pair it with.

There usually wasn’t a lot people at the bakery during this time, the limbo period between breakfast and lunch, so the odds that the last corn muffin on display would be chosen by you and some guy who had a mole on his left thumb was highly unlikely, but happened anyway, since the universe was funny like that.

What was even funnier that the hand was attached to the same guy you hoped you wouldn’t bump into today.

“Oh, I’m sorry,” Baekhyun apologized as his wooden tong bumped into yours while he was reaching for the muffin. “You can have it, I can get something el—” He stopped midsentence when he saw who you were. “Oh. It’s you.”

“It’s me,” you smiled. “Baekhyun, right?” He nodded. “You can have the muffin. You look like you really love it. I’ll just get a cinnamon roll.”

Picking the cinnamon roll on the second shelf, you left Baekhyun there and made your way to the cashier with your tray. Baekhyun followed, rather hastily, with his muffin.

Mrs. Song was waiting for you at the counter with your coffee and a warm smile, just like she always did when you visited her shop. She was just a little over thirty, but her youthful beauty made it look like she was way younger than you. You hoped to age as gracefully as she did, but it was kind of a reach since you weren’t exactly the best in taking care of yourself.

“I see you’ve made a new friend,” she said as she typed in your purchase on the register. She looked over your shoulder, and you realized who she was talking about.

You glanced at Baekhyun behind you, who was smiling sweetly at Mrs. Song.

“Oh, he’s not my friend. He’s more of an acquaintance. He’s friends with Chanyeol, though.”

“That hurt, you know,” Baekhyun joked. “We could be friends if you gave it a shot.”

You looked at him. “We literally just met last night.”

“I’m just saying,” he smiled cheekily.

Mrs. Song giggled at you and Baekhyun’s playful banter, handing your receipt along with your coffee. You thanked her and went to sit at the farthest side of the shop, hoping that Baekhyun would leave you alone because frankly, you weren’t ready for him. You needed time to grasp the reality of the situation, and even though you knew that you couldn’t avoid him forever, now just wasn’t the perfect time to face it head-on. You had to compose yourself first and think of how you were going to handle your relationship with him.

Of course, you never got what you wanted. Baekhyun set his tray on the table and sat in front of you. You looked at him settling on his seat while you sipped your coffee, trying to figure out what he was trying to accomplish.

“You know, you could ask if that seat is taken,” you said as you set down your cup.

“Is this seat taken?”

“No.”

“Okay. Good.” He picked up his muffin and bit into it, small crumbs falling from where he held the pastry. He said nothing after that, but his eyes seemed to be smiling as he looked at you.

 _Fine_ , you thought. _Life wouldn’t let me breathe even if I wanted to, so might as well face it_.

Cutting into your cinnamon roll, you asked, “You’re new here, aren’t you? I come to this place twice a week and I’ve just seen you here today. I haven’t seen you before last night, either, and it’s a small town.”

“Yep,” he replied and then wiped the corners of his mouth with a napkin. “I moved here about a month ago, but I started working at the radio station last week.”

Baekhyun then told you that he had moved here because he had to look after his stepbrother who was still in high school since their parents passed away. He had visited before, though they were just brief dinner dates with his family because his previous job demanded too much from him, making it hard for him to see them frequently.

He conversed with you like an old friend, confusing you as to where he got the confidence to be this familiar with a stranger. It should’ve made you like him less, being all casual even though the two of you just met last night at Chanyeol’s party, but it didn’t. You wondered if this was one of the signs Minseok told you about, Baekhyun being comfortable with you despite the fact that you were mere acquaintances, two people who met through a mutual friend.

“What about you? What’s your story?” He asked as he sipped his iced Americano.

“We literally just met.”

“And that’s literally the second time you’ve said that to me today, and it’s not even noon,” he laughed. “Come on. I told you mine.”

It was supposed to be annoying, how at ease he acted around you, but something told you that he was normally like this, unfazed by the awkwardness between strangers.

Eventually, you gave in and told him the same boring story you told Minseok when he also asked you about your life, but leaving the part where you suffered from a disorder which was the reason why last night had been a mess.

It wasn’t because you wanted to intentionally withhold that information—although that was what you exactly did—but because it didn’t seem like something that should be in a conversation before noon, and also because he would find out sooner or later when he witnesses one of the many unspectacular moments that came with your condition, now that he was practically a part of your life.

“It sounds peaceful. The life here, I mean,” he said. “I wish I moved in sooner. The Big City is always chaotic, people rushing everywhere like they were running out of time. It burned me out without me even noticing it.”

“This town can get tiring too, but maybe not as much as where you’re from.”

“Still, it’s better.”

“Yeah, it’s not that good for everyone,” you said pensively as you played with the remnants of the cinnamon roll’s frosting on your plate with a fork.

“Why is that? You sounded okay, though.”

You sighed, knowing that this conversation would end up in the direction you didn’t want to tread into. That was when you told him about the accident, quickly rolling it off your tongue so that your mind wouldn’t catch up to the painful memory of recalling possibly the worst night of your life.

It had been a while since you had to talk about it, Baekhyun being the first person you had to explain it to after meeting Junmyeon for the first time three months ago. It never was a pleasant time for you, reliving that horrible moment in your life, but it was inevitable. It was part of your life story, no matter how many times you tried to leave it out, it always bubbled up towards the surface, and you weren’t a deep person to begin with, anyway.

“I’m sorry,” Baekhyun said after you finished narrating.

It was the standard comment, people giving you their pity after hearing about the accident. You were used to it by now, but that didn’t mean it got easier for you.

“It’s okay,” you sighed. “I mean, I had to give up on a lot of things after it, but I guess I gained a lot as well.”

 _Yeah, like being a burden to your friends, a shit on of medication, and meeting two doctors_ , your subconscious jeered at you.

Luckily, your phone’s alarm went off, signaling that you should be walking to class by now, cutting off your conversation with Baekhyun before you got into more miserable matters.

“I guess that’s your cue to leave?” Baekhyun asked with a small smile.

“Yeah, sorry,” you said as you tapped your phone to stop its ringing. “I kind of need to put bread on my table and make sure I don’t live off instant noodles.”

“It was nice talking to you, really. I’m not shitting. You’re fun to be with.”

“Well, if that’s how you really feel, we’re having karaoke night later after dinner,” you told him before finishing off your coffee. You wondered where your sudden burst of confidence came from. “You can come. Chanyeol’s probably going to invite you, anyway, based from my hunch.”

Baekhyun laughed. “Sure. I could use a couple more friends in my new town.”

“Oh, I doubt you have trouble making friends from the way you run your mouth,” you countered, earning another chuckle from him.

“I guess I’ll see you tonight, then.”

“You’ll see me alright,” you nodded.

* * *

Karaoke night was a tradition that occurred once a month among your group of friends. You only hoped that nothing would happen this time like what occurred at Chanyeol’s party yesterday, pleading to yourself to keep it together even just for one night.

Jongin suggested that this time, each of you would invite at least one other person that wasn’t in your group, joking that it would be nice to see some new faces because he always got to see you, Chanyeol, and Kyungsoo even after the three of you graduated university.

You invited Joohyun, Junmyeon’s receptionist, as she was probably the only person you considered as a friend outside of your circle. Like you had predicted, Chanyeol brought Baekhyun, while Jongin and Kyungsoo invited two guys they worked with at the theatre company. Later on, you learned that their names were Jongdae and Yixing.

Joohyun still hadn’t arrived because of the workload she had back at the clinic, but she had promised that she would go straight to the karaoke bar right after she finished. You were really looking forward to hanging out with her tonight, mainly because you felt like you had been spending too much time with boys for most of your life. It wasn’t like you were uncomfortable about your current set of friends; you just thought that it would be refreshing to have another girl in the mix and Joohyun had been nothing but nice to you since you started going to the clinic.

Baekhyun started where he had left off earlier that day, being talkative as ever. You knew more about him the longer the two of you immersed in each other’s stories.

Before getting the job as the production director for Chanyeol’s weekday primetime program at the radio station, he was a music producer for a well-known company in the Big City. He didn’t brag about it, though. He talked about it as if creating music for some of the big names in the industry was just like any other job, like there was nothing special about it.

“You know, for a loud mouth, you’re really humble,” you teased.

Baekhyun snorted before taking a chug of his beer. “I take pride in what do, or what I did, whatever, because I love it. I probably love music more than life itself. I just see no point in being boastful about my work. I mean, it should speak for itself.”

“Honestly, you’re way too down-to-earth. It’s almost unbelievable.” He almost spit out what he was drinking from laughing. “I’m serious. I bet you have a bunch of other talents you’re too shy to show. I bet you can sing decently too.”

He did have that look in him, the performer’s glow you often saw whenever Chanyeol played a million different instruments or when Jongin danced his heart out or in how Kyungsoo perfectly absorbed a character when he was acting. As if right on cue, Chanyeol handed Baekhyun a microphone, telling him that the song he had reserved was up next.

Baekhyun gave you a knowing look before he started singing.

However, decent wasn’t the right word to describe his voice.

You weren’t sure what adjective to use, which was odd since you basically ate adjectives three times a day from being a Literature teacher.

His voice was powerful but calming, like how strong waves broke near the shoreline and kissed the sand tenderly before rolling back into the ocean. You hadn’t been to heaven yet you were positive that Baekhyun’s voice flawlessly captured that of an angel’s. You thought of the tune he was humming when you first saw him in The Dream and how it sounded like a lullaby to calm the storms inside of you.

That was when you realized that it would be impossible not to fall for him, how The Dream was not giving you a chance to turn your back and shield yourself behind your doubts and worries, and maybe it was time for you to stop doing that and just trust the process.

Baekhyun finished the song, earning applause and praise from everyone.

“So, what can’t you do? Did you hoard everything when god was giving out talents?” You kidded, soliciting laughter from the other guys.

“I’m starting to think you have a crush on me,” Baekhyun answered. You hoped your face wasn’t as red as you felt it was. “I think you’ve reached your quota for compliments tonight.”

“I agree,” you nodded, playing into the jest. “I think I’ll go back to hating you now.”

“For fuck’s sake, the two of you have been flirting at each other like a couple of college kids the entire night,” Kyungsoo butted in, teasingly rolling his eyes in false irritation. “Where’s Joohyun, anyway? Is she still coming? The beer’s almost gone.”

Just as Minseok had said, life has always been a dirty player, but now you recognized that part of its deceitful nature is largely attributed to its impeccable timing.

Joohyun hesitantly opened the door to the room, smiling shyly as she entered. “Hi. Sorry for being unbelievably late. My boss dumped a lot of paperwork on me.”

You stood up to greet her and usher her in, realizing a heartbeat too late what was happening.

The room was dead quiet except for the faint feedback from the karaoke machine’s sound system. You were standing right in front of Joohyun but her gaze was far from you, her eyes settling on the person at the back of the room where the rest of the guys were. You turned back, noticing that Chanyeol, for the first time in all of his twenty-five years, was speechless, his stare boring through Joohyun’s.

The two of them just stared at each other while a silent understanding washed over the group: they had just met their soulmates.

From behind you, you heard Baekhyun whisper to himself, “It’s like magic.”

Indeed, it was. It was like a plot written by the most peculiar author, how three pairs of soulmates were in the same place at the same time: Kyungsoo and Jongin, you and Baekhyun, and now, Chanyeol and Joohyun.

It was like a story unfolding right in front of your eyes and you were one of the characters.

Baekhyun was already looking at you before your eyes met his, as if the two of you were silently asking each other what magic has The Dream in store for both of you.

 

 

**6.**

Baekhyun had been something constant since karaoke night.

He always hung around Chanyeol, which meant that you often saw him as well. He somewhat became an unofficial member of your circle, always present whenever you, Chanyeol, Jongin, and Kyungsoo went out.

Jongin and Kyungsoo seemed to like him, and you could understand why. Baekhyun was a mood maker—he always knew what to say to make people laugh and he was extremely great at making conversations, among other things. His bright personality made it impossible not to like him; it was impossible for _you_ not to like him.

As the days rolled by, you could feel your heart growing fonder for Baekhyun and it was kind of getting difficult to not make it obvious, not with Kyungsoo giving you a knowing look and a smirk whenever Baekhyun did or said something that flustered you and made you blush.

A perfect example was when Chanyeol was being annoying, showing Baekhyun some video clips from when you played volleyball in college that he somehow dug up from the internet.

“Yeol, put that fucking video away or I swear to God I’m gonna fling your phone against the wall,” you said as you buried your face in your hands from embarrassment. “How did you even find a video from four years ago?”

“You’re such a buzzkill,” he complained, rolling his eyes. “What are you so ashamed about? You were an amazing athlete. You almost made it to the national team—” You shot him a look and he stopped. He backtracked, “You were good. Am I not allowed to hype my best friend?”

“I looked ugly back in college,” you glared at him.

Baekhyun snorted. “What the hell are you talking about? If this is your definition of ugly then I don’t know what I was in college,” he said as he leaned in closer to Chanyeol’s phone. “I fucking _wish_ I looked this fine.”

Your face burned red after that comment as Kyungsoo kicked you from under the table, a stupid smile plastered on his face.

While remarks like that seemed harmless, it was hard not to think anything of it especially since it came from Baekhyun. You didn’t want to assume things and think that he was hitting on you, but it was tough to put those thoughts aside because you knew that he wasn’t just someone.

He was your soulmate.

You had tried countless times to bring it up to him, to say that you were _literally_ meant for each other, but every single time that even just a sliver of courage would course through you, anxiety replaced it almost immediately.

It didn’t help that your nightmares came back, waking you up in cold sweat every night and making you cry until you couldn’t breathe. You grew more and more restless as the days went on and you weren’t sure until when you could handle this.

But for now, you had to suppress everything that you were feeling because today, you were mentoring Sehun to prepare him for the essay writing contest that he finally agreed to join after weeks of urging him to do it.

“Hi,” Sehun greeted as he opened the front door of his home. A concerned frown replaced his smile as he must have noticed the dark circles under your eyes. “Are you feeling okay?”

“Yes,” you managed a weak smile. “I’m just swamped with work lately,” you lied.

“We could postpone training to another day so you could rest—” He began, but you shook your head immediately.

“I’m completely fine. I just didn’t sleep well last night, but I’m okay.”

Sehun pursed his lips, not entirely convinced. He hesitated for a few moments but eventually let you in, instructing you to leave your shoes at the base of the small stairs that led further into the house and to use the house slippers before going in.

“Are your parents home?”

“Um… no,” he replied. “My older brother’s here but I asked him to leave us alone. We can work in the dining room so I could write on a better table. Can I get you anything, like coffee? You seem more like a tea person, though. How about juice? My brother’s obsessed with healthy juices lately, I could steal you some,” he rambled, and you could tell that he was nervous.

You laughed softly. “I’m okay with water. And I don’t think your brother would appreciate it if you stole some of his juice.”

“Nah, he’ll live with it. He eats my chocolate all the time,” Sehun said with a hint of annoyance, but it was obvious that he had a good relationship with his brother.

Your eyes roamed around the living room, falling on a shelf stocked with family photos. When you were about to examine them more closely, Sehun calls you from the dining room. You tore your eyes away from the picture frames, shaking away the idea that a man in the photos looked vaguely familiar, and you were sure that it wasn’t Sehun.

You started off the training with easy writing exercises, giving Sehun two prompt words and making him write an essay about them based on whatever that crossed his mind. Writing wasn’t the easiest thing to do especially when it was asked to be done on the spot, but Sehun started working on the piece after just a few minutes of brainstorming.

He finished in an amazing time, and as usual, the essay came out great despite the few flaws that you noticed in it. You then gave him harder topics to write about like politics, religion, and philosophy, and after about four writing exercises, you decided that it was time to catch a break.

“Okay, let’s stop here,” you said after complimenting him on another essay. “Let’s take a break for about an hour and then I’ll brief you on how these competitions work, give you some pointers that will help on the contest day, and we’ll run through the things you missed in the essays you just wrote.”

“Finally,” Sehun exhaled as he stretched his arms over his head, obviously tired from writing.

“Go play some video games or something,” you smiled at him as you took out your laptop from your bag. “I’ll catch up on some work in the meantime.”

Sehun’s eyes gleamed at your mention of video games. “Really?”

“Yeah,” you laughed. “But be back here in an hour, okay?”

He was gone faster than you could say, _‘Kids these days.’_

 

It was when you were on the thirty-third slide of the presentation you were preparing for one of your lectures next week that you heard it—the unmistakable sound of a piano playing.

Your hands froze above your laptop’s keyboard, a hundred percent certain that you have heard the melody before. The tune was faint, but it was loud enough for you to hear it in the dining room from wherever it was being played.

You wondered if it was Sehun who was playing, but you have never heard of him being musically-inclined, and things like that often traveled fast around school. Out of curiosity, you stood up from where you were sitting and followed the source of the distinctive song.

It was rude to snoop around someone else’s home, but you couldn’t stop your feet from moving to where the music came from because surprisingly, you _knew_ this song. You had to figure out who was behind the piano keys.

The melody led your body to a small corridor. The door at the end of the hall was ajar, light pouring out from the opening, and the tune was now louder and clearer from where you stood. Slowly, you made your way towards it, stopping just in front of the half-open door to peek at whoever was responsible for the beautiful music.

He sat in front of the piano with his eyes closed, his hands traveling across the keyboard and his long, slender fingers skillfully pressing on the black and white keys. He looked utterly blissed and absorbed in the song he was playing, and judging from the way he knew where every note was even with closed eyes, it was obvious that he had played this song for countless times.

A change in key in the song somewhat woke you up from the melody’s trance, your brain finally realizing why you knew this song and who you were looking at.

This was the song Moonlight was humming in The Dream.

The pianist was Baekhyun.

But what was he doing here in Sehun’s house?

You slowly entered the room. “B—Baekhyun?” your voice cut through the air like a dull knife, breaking the melody.

His fingers halted as his eyes snapped open, his dark brown irises focusing on you immediately after your voice disrupted the music that filled the room.

The two of you just stared at each other for a few silent seconds, both of you probably confused at the entire situation. Why was Baekhyun here? What was he to Sehun? Baekhyun was most likely asking the same questions in his head right now.

“What—”

“Why—”

You spoke at the same time.

The quiet that followed after was ruined by Sehun shouting from the hall. He probably went to the dining room, saw that you weren’t there, and started looking for you. His voice grew closer and closer and soon he found you and Baekhyun looking at each other.

“Oh, great,” Sehun mumbled. “You found my brother.”

* * *

Luckily, Baekhyun wasn’t always at home when you trained Sehun.

As far as you knew, he worked regular hours at the radio station, but when you asked Sehun, he said that his brother also had a lot of work on the side—a music consultant for a couple of independent artists, a sound designer at the theater company where Jongin and Kyungsoo worked, and he sometimes sang at The Constrictor, the most famous pub in town as he was good friends with its owner.

But when Baekhyun was at home, you constantly found yourself having dinner at his house, as he never took no for an answer. The first time that happened was unbelievably awkward.

“So, you’re Sehun’s Literature teacher,” Baekhyun said.

“Yes.”

“Interesting,” he said with a smirk on his lips as he threw knowing glances at his brother. “Sehun has told me so much about you.”

“Now would be a fantastic time to shut up, Baek,” Sehun spoke up for the first time throughout the whole meal. He glared at Baekhyun while making holes on his mashed potatoes with his fork.

“Why?” Baekhyun smiled. “You don’t want your teacher to know about your little crush on her?”

Sehun sort of distanced himself from you after that crazy incident, probably from embarrassment. Like the adult you were, you talked to him about it and said that crushes are perfectly normal, but it was kind of inappropriate between students and their teachers.

“Of course I know that,” Sehun rolled his eyes. “It’s not a _crush_ crush. It’s not that deep, Baekhyun just likes being overdramatic. It’s more of like I naturally admire you because I like to write and you’re my Literature teacher.”

“Okay, okay,” you couldn’t help but laugh. “You know, I know a few of your classmates who like you. Maybe you can tell me who you like and we’ll work something out.”

“I don’t really like anyone in school. Most people there are stupid, even some of the teachers. Uh, no offense.”

“None taken,” you smiled.

As training progressed, so did Sehun, and you were positive that he would be a serious contender in the contest. You also grew closer to him because of that, and he kind of became the younger sibling you never had. You were sad that this would be the last year you would get to see him in school, but at the same time, you were excited for him to improve further in college.

Baekhyun, on the other hand, you actively tried to avoid.

On days when any of your friends would ask you out to eat and you knew that Baekhyun would be coming, you made up excuses like being stacked with work just to elude him. When you were at his house for Sehun’s training, you would leave as soon as you hear him come home or when you were done for the day to avoid being asked to stay for dinner again.

Unfortunately, Baekhyun wasn’t stupid, so of course, he caught on.

Chanyeol, Kyungsoo, and Jongin, kept asking you if you were mad at Baekhyun because he had been bugging them nonstop to ask you if he did something wrong. You often played it stupid with a laugh and a _‘What are you guys talking about?’_ before diverting the topic to something else. Even Sehun surprised you by saying out of the blue that he thinks you were avoiding his brother during one of your writing exercises in training.

There were reasons why you were avoiding him, but you weren’t sure if they were valid or you were just making them up.

Firstly, you didn’t want your, uh, _relationship_ with him affect the way you treated Sehun in class. Yes, you weren’t anywhere close to dating, but still, it felt weird that one of your students had your soulmate as his brother _and_ legal guardian. That was like a watered down equivalent of dating your students’ parents.

Also, the longer time you spend with Baekhyun in person, the more you feel the urge to blurt out The Dream and ask him if he already had it, and all it did was make you feel anxious because you never became brave enough to actually go and do it. At least when you didn’t see him, other things took up space in your brain.

Out of sight, out of mind.

Well, that lasted for about two weeks until you saw Baekhyun standing outside the high school building.

You stopped in your tracks and a million questions started flooding through your head like if he came to see you because it looked like he was waiting for you or was it Sehun he was waiting for and how did he know that your work ended at this time and why would he go here today of all days?

You swallowed down your nervousness and walked up to him.

“Hi, Baek! Are you looking for Sehun? I’m pretty sure he already went home and—”

“Actually, I was waiting for you.”

You froze. “Why me?”

“I wanted to ask if you were mad at me,” Baekhyun said, his gaze falling to the ground. “You’ve been avoiding me lately.”

“What? No—”

“Stop it,” he cut you off. “Everyone with two eyes can see that you’ve been avoiding me so please. Please stop denying it and just tell me what I did wrong so I can apologize for it and you don’t have to avoid me anymore.”

“You didn’t do anything. I’m not mad at you,” you replied in a small voice, embarrassed at the entire situation.

You didn’t realize that Baekhyun would go this far, that he would be so bothered at you distancing yourself from him that he would apologize for something he didn’t even do.

“Then why are you avoiding me?”

You didn’t know how to answer this, so you just stood there stupidly and looked at your feet. You could feel Baekhyun’s eyes on you, and you were scared to look up at him and see what he was feeling burning through his stare.

You felt something piercing in your chest, a feeling that you haven’t experienced in a long time.

Guilt.

“Look,” Baekhyun began, but you kept your head down. “If you really hate me that much, then fine, don’t talk to me forever. But I need to know what I did so I could at least apologize for it, so I could finally sleep at night.”

You didn’t know if he said that last part for dramatic effect or if he was being serious about not being able to sleep because you were ignoring him.

He continued, “Just… please tell me, okay? This is actually driving me crazy and I know that if I ask our friends and my brother one more time to ask you what I did for you to avoid me, they’re really gonna smack me in the head so please just tell me yourself and then I’ll leave you alone. I promise.”

You finally looked up, and—was he… pouting? Baekhyun, a grown-ass man, is actually pouting like a little kid?

“You really didn’t do anything, Baek. I already told you.”

“So why have you been avoiding me like the plague?” You opened your mouth to lie that you weren’t, that it was all just some weird coincidence when Baekhyun beat you to it. “And don’t tell me that you haven’t avoiding me and it’s all just some weird coincidence because this conversation will just go in circles again and again and I don’t care because I can do this all day until you tell me what it is.”

“What’s it to you if we don’t see each other that often?” You asked, trying to sound tough despite your insides churning and your knees turning into jelly. “We’re adults, Baek. We work, we get busy, and we don’t see some people that much. That’s really all there is to it, I don’t know what you’re—”

Baekhyun rolled his eyes. “You’re really dense, aren’t you?”

“What?”

“She’s really making me fucking do this,” he muttered to himself, probably unaware that everything was audible from where you were standing. “I like you, okay? Like, _like you_ like you. That kind of like. Oh my god, I sound like some stupid high school kid. This is so embarrassing.”

You would’ve laughed if the world didn’t stop spinning, the air didn’t get knocked out of your lungs, and your mind didn’t go blank.

“I’m pretty sure my stupid little crush has been pathetically obvious so I don’t even know why I’m telling you this upfront because I know you’re damn smart,” he said. “Please don’t stare at me like I grew another nose. Say something.”

“I don’t… I’m not sure what to say.”

Baekhyun exhaled. “Well then you need to figure out something quickly because I’m not planning on disappearing anytime soon because this isn’t some dumb fling people have before The Dream comes to them. The Dream already came to me. _You_ came to me.”

 

 

**7.**

The drive from the Big City back to your town was your favorite part of when you would come home from visiting your older sister and her family.

The town was basically a smaller version of the Big City with less skyscrapers and more land, separated from the latter by a body of water called Diamond Lake which earned its name from the locals by how it glistened even without much sun showing in the sky.

The expanse of the highway that led back to town gave the perfect view of it, matched with the landscape of The Ridges, the hills up north that were tall enough to be mountains but were still called otherwise.

It was a little over quarter to six, and at any moment, the sunset would begin painting the sky with pastel undertones with the lake reflecting the hues. It was the most magical time of the day.

You stopped your car at a red light in the large intersection just before the town’s border and you took a moment to look out your window and appreciate the golden hour before it slipped right through your fingers.

The honking of the vehicle behind you reeled you back into reality where the traffic light was green, so you drove forward and let the sunset go.

From your peripheral, you could make out an ominous shape coming towards the side of your car and the last things your senses registered were the deafening sound of a horn blaring, the taste of blood, the heady stench of gasoline, and shrapnel cutting through your skin before the world stopped spinning.

“You can stop now,” Junmyeon softly said as he rested his warm hand over your cold ones. “We can take a break for a while. You looked like you were uncomfortable.”

True enough, cold sweat was running down the side of your temples and your heart was beating violently against your chest. Your fingers had gone numb from the terror of revisiting the accident; pins and needles have seemingly replaced its nerves when you tried to flex them.

“I’m sorry, I thought… I thought I would be better at it by now.”

“It’s okay,” Junmyeon smiled sympathetically. “Actually, you’ve gotten better even if you don’t realize it. The first time we did this you couldn’t even get pass describing the scenery and now you’ve gotten to the most important part. You’re doing amazing.”

“Oh. I didn’t notice that.”

Junmyeon nodded. “Most people don’t, really. They never know that they’re doing better until someone tells them. And you don’t have to get better right away because we aren’t racing against anything or anyone. This is a long and tedious process, and we just have to trust it.”

When you first met him, Junmyeon promised you that he would be patient with you and he also made you promise that you would be patient with yourself because as with most mental illnesses, no cure exists for PTSD. The symptoms, however, can be effectively managed to restore a patient to normal functioning, but treatment will always be a work in progress.

“We’ll just go through the usual post-treatment routine and we’re done for the day,” Junmyeon said as he retrieved his notes from his desk. “Do you still have trouble sleeping?”

You shook your head.

“Do you still have nightmares?”

“Not that I remember,” you replied. “And I usually remember my nightmares.”

“Hmm,” Junmyeon paused, his brows arching in concentration. “Remember when you told me that your soulmate told you about his dream?”

“What about it?”

He took off his glasses and gave you a wide smile. “Well, according to my notes, you’ve been sleeping better and without nightmares, too, after that day. I guess things are going great between the two of you?”

As a matter of fact, yes.

Everything went back to normal after Baekhyun’s surprise visit with the addition of more coffee dates at Mrs. Song’s café, movie nights on Fridays, and long walks home.

You told Baekhyun that you still wanted to take it slow—he was still one of your students’ legal guardians, after all—and the guy took it gracefully and never went too far for your liking, adding to the extensive list of things that you loved about him, along with the way he scrunches his nose when he laughs, the sparkle in his eyes when he talked about music, and how he cutely held a pen like a five year old when he was writing.

You were disgustingly whipped and it had been barely a month.

Somewhere in between, you managed to tell Baekhyun the entirety of your condition, and he was one of the few people that didn’t look at you like it was a contagious disease or like you were batshit crazy. He didn’t treat you any differently than how he had been with you before he knew and he had been so supportive about everything.

That was why he was waiting for you at the clinic’s lobby, chatting with Joohyun like the chatterbox he was.

Picking you up after therapy became a thing after you opened up to him. You remembered being surprised when you saw him waiting for you after one of your sessions and the next thing you knew he was there at every single one of them, not missing a day even when he was busy.

You often went for coffee at Mrs. Song’s after sessions but it was midterms week and you had a lot of test papers to grade so you asked Baekhyun to just walk you home, promising that you would make it up to him next week.

“How was therapy?” He asked as the two of you walked through the quiet streets of your neighborhood with the remnants of fall crunching under your shoes and the air just a little bit colder than it was a couple of nights ago.

“Same as the past few weeks,” you shrugged. “It’s still narration. Although Junmyeon said I was getting better at it.”

“I’m so proud of you,” Baekhyun smiled. “But I’m pretty sure it has something to do with me.”

“I take back all of the things I said about you being humble. You’re so full of yourself,” you rolled your eyes. “I’ll see you tomorrow, Mr. Cocksure,” you said as the two of you arrive at your apartment’s front door.

Baekhyun laughed, the annoying kind that he does when you know he was about to say something stupid. “You said you want to take it slow and yet here you are, using the C-word.” And there it was.

“Fuck off, Byun.” But you couldn’t stop yourself from smiling.

“What are you doing the night before your birthday?”

You narrowed your eyes. “Why are you asking?”

“Well…” Baekhyun began, his eyes gleaming with something you couldn’t put a finger on—maybe excitement? “You did say you would make it up to me.”

* * *

Baekhyun’s smile didn’t waver one bit since he showed up at your front door nearly two hours ago. It was getting creepy.

“Stop doing that.”

“Doing what?”

“Grinning like a madman,” you replied as you playfully hit his arm. “It’s like you’re planning something evil. It’s freaking me out. Wait, are you kidnapping me?”

“It’s not kidnapping if you’re coming with me on your own free will,” he countered as that stupid smirk remained on his face.

“Maybe if you told me where we’re going I wouldn’t be asking questions.”

“But that would ruin the whole thing!” He whined like a kid—as he always did—and it made you question if he truly was almost twenty-six years old. “That’s why it’s called a _surprise_ , dummy.”

You didn’t know exactly where the two of you were headed, but based from the direction you have been walking for the past two hours, you were certain that you were going to The Ridges.

It wasn’t even that far from town, more or less forty-five minutes by car, but that was the problem—you couldn’t ride one. If Baekhyun was tired, it wasn’t obvious from the way he was acting all bubbly despite sweat beading on his forehead. He never once complained, but that only made you guiltier than you already were.

“We’re going camping, aren’t we?” You asked as the two of you stopped at a lone convenience store at the base of the hills, which you knew because you had been here before.

Baekhyun froze. “You’ve been to The Ridges before?”

“I’ve lived here longer than you so of course I’ve been there before,” you deadpanned. “Chanyeol and I also used to go hiking there, way back in college. Why didn’t you just tell me? We could’ve taken a car instead of walking all the way here.”

“I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable,” he shrugged as he gulped down an entire bottle of water in one swing. “We’re almost there, anyway. No harm done. Why are you getting mad at me?”

“Baek, we could’ve driven here instead of walking,” you repeated.

“I didn’t want you to be uncomfortable.”

“I can handle being uncomfortable!” You argued, although you weren’t completely sure if you could’ve truly handled it. “You could’ve just told me. Now you’re all tired and sweaty and your feet are probably aching and I feel like it’s my entire fault.”

Baekhyun just laughed. The idiot probably thought you were joking. “Love, I’m not tired one bit,” he said, and he said a couple of things after that, but all you heard was one word.

 _Love_.

It wasn’t even that much of an endearment—he had probably said that to a lot of other girls before he met you—but it was enough to occupy the entire space of your mind as the two of you made your way to the camping site, which, as you had predicted, was absolutely empty, save for the camp for two people that had been already set up, possibly by Baekhyun beforehand. December wasn’t the most opportune time to go camping, after all.

“So your surprise for my birthday is to go sleep in the woods in the brink of winter,” you said. “I’m starting to think this is more of a tactic to get me to die of hypothermia than a birthday gift.”

“It’s not even that cold,” Baekhyun rolled his eyes, and right on time, a cold breeze blew through the clearing, making both of you shiver.

“You were saying?” You raised your brows in contempt. “Of all things, why camping? Couldn’t we have just eaten at some place nice or something? I know a nice French restaurant downtown. It’s not too late to pack up.”

Baekhyun looked at his wristwatch and simply smiled. “You’ll see.”

 

After Baekhyun got a fire going and organized all your stuff—yes, you let him do everything because this was his idea, after all—the two of you sat in front of the fire as you ate hot gazpacho that suspiciously tasted like Kyungsoo’s cooking despite Baekhyun insisting that he prepared it.

“Okay, let’s just say Kyungsoo _helped_ me with it,” he finally admitted after your adamant prying.

Even though you didn’t want to admit it, Baekhyun actually did an amazing job with planning the whole thing. You wondered how he found the time to organize everything despite how busy you knew he was, working at the radio station with a couple of other jobs at the side.

“Hey, Baek, you’re rich, right?” You asked out of the blue as you ate another spoonful of stew.

Baekhyun chuckled. “Depends on why you’re asking. You’re not a gold digger, are you?”

“What? No!” You rolled your eyes. “It’s just… Why do you work so much? I’m pretty sure you earned a lot from being a producer and you get paid well at the radio station, but why do you still do so many things at the same time?” You asked, swirling the soup on your bowl. “I just don’t want you to overwork yourself.”

He put away his now-empty dish and crossed his arms in front of him, shielding himself from the cold. “It’s not entirely for me,” Baekhyun said so softly that you barely heard him. “It’s for my brother. I just want to give Sehun some security.”

“Didn’t your parents leave something behind after they…”

“Well, yes,” he answered immediately, not allowing you to finish your sentence. Maybe it was still a topic too sensitive to touch, even for someone with a personality as bright as Baekhyun. “But it’s not going to be there forever, and I don’t want Sehun to be left to fend for himself. I mean, I make enough for myself but I want to make more for my little brother, um, even though he’s a _little_ taller than me.”

“A little,” you snorted at his understatement. “It’s nice to see that you really love him even though he’s just your half-brother.”

Baekhyun and Sehun were only brothers through their mom, which is the reason why they didn’t have the same surname and therefore it wasn’t that obvious that they were related. They looked nothing alike, and to add to that, their personalities were a lot different as well. But despite that, they got along pretty well as you have observed from hanging around at their house too much.

“Well, he is the only family I have left,” Baekhyun said. “But now, I have you.”

“Okay, let’s not get too serious here,” you joked despite your face heating up and your heart jumping to your throat at Baekhyun’s words. “Remind me why we’re here again.”

Baekhyun laughed. “What time is it?”

“A little over eight. Why?”

Baekhyun said nothing and instead pointed at the sky, which was littered with more stars than you were used to seeing back in town. You couldn’t remember the last time you saw so many of them.

“They’re beautiful,” you gasped.

“Yes,” Baekhyun agreed. “But we’re not here to just stargaze.”

That was when you saw it: a string of light cutting through the night sky that disappeared as fast as it arrived, and just when you thought it was just a trick of the eye, more followed—stars falling from their place and scratching the heavens.

“The Geminids,” Baekhyun explained. “They happen every year around your birthday.”

To say that the meteor shower was breathtaking was understatement. Every shooting star felt like the first all over again, the novelty seemingly never wearing off no matter how many stars followed.

 _They happen every year around your birthday_ , Baekhyun had said. You were well aware that you shared your birthday with millions of people, but still, the Geminids made you feel special, as if it was the universe’s way of greeting you happy birthday, like you were more than just an insignificant speck in its great expanse.

You put your hands together and closed your eyes.

“What are you doing?” Baekhyun asked.

“I’m making a wish,” you answered and Baekhyun’s silence followed. When you fluttered your eyes open, you looked at him and questioned, “Baek, do you know why people wish upon shooting stars?”

He shook his head.

“Well, people say that the reason why the stars are falling is because god, or whoever higher being is out there, is tipping the heavens as they look over Earth,” you expounded. “People believe that shooting stars indicate that god is being extra attentive, so we make a wish and hope he hears it and makes it come true.”

Baekhyun hummed as he nodded. “So… what did you wish for?”

“I wished for everyone that I love and care about becomes happy. You, especially,” you said, your face heating up at your confession. “Aren’t you going to wish for anything? Or maybe you don’t believe in wishing upon shooting stars because they’re childish?”

He laughed. “I’m the _epitome_ of childish. You, of all people, should know that.”

“Then go wish for something.”

“I already got my wish,” Baekhyun softly said as his gentle eyes fell on yours, and you somehow knew what he had meant by that.

* * *

It had been a while since you last picked up a brush and painted on canvas, so this session’s activity didn’t quite come off as easily as you had expected.

Almost four hours had passed since you started, but Junmyeon remained where he sat since the beginning, looking at you as you painted and observing attentively as he scribbled down on his notepad. Whenever you would turn around to face him as if to silently say that you couldn’t finish the painting, he coaxed you gently to continue and convinced you that you were doing great.

Eventually, you managed to convince yourself too, finishing the piece without a single untouched spot on the canvas.

Junmyeon exhaled as he stood up to examine your painting more closely. “It looks beautiful,” he complimented. “At first I thought you weren’t feeling good lately because you started off the painting with such dark colors. But then you started adding the stars.”

The exercise was trying to paint a vehicle. At first it was kind of challenging, but then you thought of the eve of your birthday. Painting a convertible parked in a field with a woman sitting inside and gazing at a meteor shower then came easy.

“It’s really beautiful,” Junmyeon repeated. “I knew you liked to paint but I had no idea you were _this_ good.”

You smiled despite rolling your eyes. “You’re just saying that.”

“Am I?” He teased, letting out a small chuckle. “Anyway, this is interesting. The woman looks completely at peace… even happy, perhaps?” He asked and you nodded. “May I ask what the inspiration for this is, if it’s okay with you to share it with me?”

“Nothing special,” you tried to brush it off, but you could feel heat rising to your cheeks. “I just went to see the Geminids last week. I just found out that they occur annually around my birthday.”

“Ah. So you’re the woman inside the car?” Junmyeon asked as he stepped closer towards the canvas to look more at the details.

“Yeah.”

“Why you are alone, though? In the painting, I mean.”

You smiled. “I’m not,” you simply said while pointing towards the corner of the canvas where a silver moon was painted.

“Oh… Moonlight. Baekhyun’s there,” Junmyeon laughed. “Minseok wasn’t kidding when he said you were poetic.”

* * *

As much as you didn’t want to admit it, comfort was easy to find in Baekhyun. His presence—even just the scent of his perfume that you used to hate but somehow grew on you or the mere sound he creates when he hums was enough for you to settle, to calm your worries, and to make you feel at peace, like you were home.

It was because of this that you found yourself calling him at two in the morning before you could even realize what you were doing.

“Hey, are you okay?” Baekhyun’s voice echoed from the other line. It didn’t take him long to pick up, and you wondered what was he doing before you had called.

“Nothing, I…” You stammered, unsure why you called him in the first place.

The sound of his chuckle traveled through the speaker. “Miss me?”

“You wish.”

“Ah, it’s okay to tell me that you miss me. It’ll be our little secret,” Baekhyun said, and you could practically hear the conceit in his voice. This time, his tone turned softer. “Can’t sleep?”

You hummed in agreement.

“Want me to come over?”

“Baek, it’s literally the dead of the night,” you argued. “You can’t just ‘come over’.”

“Actually, I can, because I live like less than ten minutes away from you and I have a car,” he countered, and you heard the unmistakable sound of a car unlocking. “See you in a few,” and then he ended the call.

True enough, Baekhyun’s car rolled in front of your front door a few minutes later, the soft purring of its engine misplaced in the sleeping neighborhood. You rushed downstairs to greet him and as soon as you opened the door, he wrapped his arms around you.

It was always like this with him. Words were never required to explain what the other needed, like how Baekhyun knew how a simple phone call from you warranted a late night visit and a tight hug, and it was this kind of familiarity you never thought you’d have with someone, the kind that can only be found in cheesy chick flicks and romance novels and sappy love songs.

“Did I wake you?”

“No,” Baekhyun whispered in your ear as the two of you snuggled in your bed. “I couldn’t sleep too so I decided to do a little rendering on this project I’m working on.”

You looked up at him. “You shouldn’t have come over. Don’t you have work tomorrow, er, later?”

“I can call in sick for you,” he smiled. “Besides, it’s Valentine’s. We should spend the day together.”

“Valentine’s is just a made up holiday by the capitalist system to milk off money from the masses and…” You stopped. “Wait, is it really the fourteenth?” You sat up immediately and grabbed your phone from the nightstand.

Baekhyun chuckled. “You forgot?”

“I didn’t really pay attention to Valentine’s before so I don’t remember it unless someone reminds me.”

“Well now you have me to remind you,” Baekhyun said as he reached out his arms for you to join him back in bed. “I’ll remind you next year, and the year after that, and then the year after that, and the year after that…”

And just like that, you somehow fell asleep with Baekhyun’s warmth pressed against yours and his hand softly brushing your hair. You wished nights like this came often, and maybe they would if you could finally have the courage to let yourself go and allow yourself to want Baekhyun without thinking of anything else.

* * *

The third phase of exposure therapy was especially challenging: sitting in Junmyeon’s office, literally doing nothing but watching TV.

For most people, it seemed like the easiest thing to do in the world—lazing around a velvet couch and gorging your eyes on show after show—but for you, it was the complete opposite as the predominant character on every picture flashed on screen was the one thing you have spent the past year actively trying to avoid: cars.

Sure, you have managed to orally recall the accident and have successfully painted a vehicle using oil on canvas, but there was something about the way they were projected on a monitor complete with the shrill sound of tires against tracks, feet against pedals, and cars against wind.

It made the fear more concrete than narrating and drawing ever will, and on the first day of phase three when Junmyeon made you watch a Formula 1 race, you didn’t even make it past the five-minute mark of the footage.

Fortunately, Junmyeon was never impatient with you just as he had promised, and by the fourth week of watching cars on TV, you could finish a Fast and the Furious movie without hitting the pause button even just once.

You confessed to Junmyeon that you felt pathetic that it took you a solid month to get over the fear of seeing vehicles in action even just through the TV, but he assured you for the nth time (you’ve lost count as he was not once uncomforting) that you were doing incredibly well.

It was also a bit pathetic to admit that you were managing to get by well because of Baekhyun, but it was nothing but the truth. It was Junmyeon who first noticed this before you did, and you disclosed that it shouldn’t be right that you were somehow depending on Baekhyun’s love for you to get past your condition.

“Yes, that does sound quite romanticizing it,” Junmyeon had said. “But as far as I can see, it isn’t just Baekhyun’s affection that’s helping you. You don’t notice a lot of things, and you most certainly don’t notice that you, yourself, are helping you overcome your illness. Baekhyun’s just an accessory, but you’re doing most of the work.”

“I don’t get it,” you frowned.

Junmyeon smiled softly, patiently. “Even before you met him, you were already determined to get better. If you weren’t, you wouldn’t have come to see me every week on your own free will. It’s just that… ah, how do I put this? Baekhyun was just that little push.” He patted your shoulder good-naturedly. “Sometimes we think a bit too independently that we immediately see support from someone as a weakness. But it’s not a weakness. Every so often, we need even just the minimum amount of dependency to get us going. We’re all dependent on something, some a little more than others, but it should never be seen as a flaw unless it’s unhealthy.”

You looked at him hopefully.

“And I think Baekhyun’s far from unhealthy for you,” Junmyeon added.

That was when all your doubts about yourself left you, causing Junmyeon to decide that you were ready for the one last activity of exposure therapy that you needed to accomplish.

It was the first time you were holding a session outside of his office. You followed him outside of the clinic, and when you thought he was going to make you ride the bus—an actual, moving vehicle that you weren’t certain you were already poised to handle even after gaining back your self-confidence—he brings out his car keys from his pocket and walked towards the small parking area enough for two cars just beside the building where his office was in.

“A—are we going for a drive?” You stammered as your heart crept up to your throat. An even worse idea barged into your brain, making bile threaten to spill out of your mouth. “Am I going to drive?”

Junmeyon held up his hands in front of him as if to say he came in peace, the silver keys with its ring looped around his index finger glinting under the spring sun. “Relax. We’re just going to desensitize you a bit further.”

“What do you mean?” You asked as you tilted your head to the side, anxiety finally lowering in your system.

Junmyeon just smiled and walked over to his black Bentley as you intently watched him. He drills the key into the shotgun seat’s lock, opened the door wide, and gestured you to come closer.

“The final part of exposure therapy is exposing you to the real thing,” he finally explained. “If you can get over this, I can call your treatment as a success generally but the rest still depends on you.”

You knew what he wanted you to do.

Junmyeon wanted you to get in the car.

The last time you willingly got inside a vehicle was the day of the accident, but the real last time was when you were unconscious inside the ambulance that took you to the hospital. When you woke up after that, you had never climbed inside anything that either had wheels or moved—you didn’t even ride escalators and elevators—but now waiting in front of you was the final test of overcoming your phobia.

Mind fogging and palms sweating, you slowly walked towards Junmyeon and his car, aware of the sickly sound of your shoes’ soles scraping against the concrete and your breath hitching in your throat.

You stood just outside the Bentley, the familiar yet unwelcoming smell of leather and pine freshener wafting into your nose. How could something hit so close to home yet hurt at the same time? But then again, most things were like that.

Before fear could get the best of you, you climbed onto the passenger seat without thinking too much about it, closing your eyes as you gauged the foreign sensation of sitting inside a car for the first time in a _really_ long while.

“Are you good?” Junmyeon asked, and when you didn’t answer, he added, “Try opening your eyes. Desensitizing works best when more of the five senses are exposed.”

Slowly but surely, you cracked your eyelids open, the grey interior of Junmyeon’s car filling the picture.

“How do you feel?”

“Weird,” you answered almost immediately. “I don’t feel bad… but I don’t think I’m particularly okay, either. I feel like I’m somewhere in the middle.”

From your side, you could make out a faint frown on Junmyeon’s face.

“Is that bad?”

He shook his head. “Not really bad. But not good enough.” Now it was your turn to frown. “Hey, it’s okay. No one’s expecting you to get it on the first try. We’ll try and try until you feel comfortable inside a car, and when you think you’re ready, you can take it further,” Junmyeon smiled.

 

Sessions were held inside the black Bentley for the following weeks after that.

The second try was much like the first one, shaky and uncertain, but when Junmyeon found a way to make the desensitization a little more interesting—playing music and bringing in food, among others—the next sessions went smoothly.

Everything reminded you of the Friday afternoon drives you had with Chanyeol when you were in college, only this time, Junmyeon was in the driver’s seat.

He never drove the car. He just let it sit on the parking lot with the engine on so the two of you could use the air-conditioning, and it was almost incredulous of Junmyeon to waste so much gas just for the sake of your therapy when you remembered that it was literally part of his job: to help you get better to the best of his ability and resources.

So on the final day of therapy, you went out of your way to show how him how much you appreciated all that he had done for you.

“I’m not sure if I should be doing this, but…” You said uncertainly before you took a huge step towards Junmyeon and wrapped your arms around him. He was taken aback at first, but when he finally hugged you back, you said, “Thank you, Junmyeon. For helping me. For making me believe in myself again. For everything.”

“It’s nothing—”

“And don’t say that it was your job,” you cut him off. “I already know that, but still. Thank you. You’re the best doctor anyone could ever have, and I’m sure you’ll be helping a lot of other people.”

You pulled away, and if you weren’t mistaken, you could see a hint of color in Junmyeon’s cheeks.

“What, don’t I get a hug too?” A voice from behind you echoed, earning a laugh from Junmyeon. You turned around and saw Minseok, the other Dr. Kim, walking towards the two of you. “I mean, I know we only saw each other once but I know I helped you somehow,” he scrunched his brows in pretense.

“No.”

Minseok only rolled his eyes. “Fine. But let me tell you something, at least,” he said, gesturing you to come closer so he could whisper something in your ear. When you do, however, you just end up getting confused at his words. “Baekhyun’s more special than you think he is.”

“How would you know that? Are you a god or something?”

A smile is the only response you could solicit from him.

* * *

“Baek.”

Baekhyun hummed distractedly as he looked up from the book he was reading. “What?”

“What do you want for your birthday?” You asked, rolling on your bed so that you were now on your stomach. “I still haven’t got anything and it’s already tomorrow.”

Baekhyun didn’t sleep over at your apartment often, but when he did, it was usually to make up for something. This time, it was for not being able to pick you up after therapy because Bo-ah, the owner of The Constrictor and a friend of Baekhyun’s, asked him to perform a couple of songs at the bar.

“Aren’t birthday gifts supposed to be surprises?”

“Yeah, but… It’s easier to get something when I know what you want.”

Baekhyun put down his book and leaned closer, your faces just barely inches away from each other. If you said you didn’t think about kissing him at least once a day would be a lie, especially during moments like this when the two of you defied personal space.

But the two of you never kissed, even after five months of seeing each other, mostly because you were too afraid of taking it too fast. You never said this explicitly to Baekhyun, but he somehow understood, pulling away when he saw you were uncomfortable.

“I don’t want anything,” Baekhyun said as he kissed your forehead before leaning back against the headboard. “I already got everything I wanted.”

You smiled despite rolling your eyes. “When will you ever _not_ be cheesy?”

“Probably never,” he laughed. “It’s funny seeing you blush despite acting all tough.”

“I hate you. I hope you know that,” you said, scooting closer to him so that you were now resting your chin on his chest. He placed his hand on your back and began caressing your hair, a habit he had acquired whenever the two of you snugged together in bed.

“How was therapy?” He asked. “I’m free next week. I can pick you up then.”

“Actually…” You began, a smile beginning to form on your lips. “Today was the last day.”

“What?”

“Junmyeon let me off the hook,” you explained. “He thinks I’m better enough not to attend therapy anymore. Although I have to continue taking my meds for another six months just to be safe from a relapse. After that, I’m good. But he told me to go to him if I ever—”

You didn’t get the chance to finish what you were saying before Baekhyun pulled you into a tight embrace. He didn’t say anything for a few moments, a comfortable silence filling your room.

“I’m so proud of you.”

Tears stung your eyes and it took every ounce of your self-control not to let them spill. “Thank you,” you managed to say. “You helped a lot, Baek. You have no idea. I wouldn’t have done it without you.”

Baekhyun broke the hug, his hands firm on your shoulder. He looked at you with such love that it was hard not to melt at his gaze.

“I didn’t do anything. This was all you.”

 

 

**8.**

“Of all days to be late, my brother chose today,” Sehun complained as he tugged at his suit’s collar, feeling hot from being too dressed up in summer.

“I’ll usher him inside the auditorium, don’t worry,” you assured him. “Go inside. The program’s about to start.”

Sehun just gave you a nod and proceeded towards the entrance, immediately getting lost in the sea of students donned in white academic gowns. You were dressed in a black version of the garment, as all faculty members were required to during commencement exercises.

“Fucking hell, Baekhyun,” you muttered as you brought out your phone to call him. It was uncharacteristic of him to be late, especially on a special occasion like his brother’s graduation.

The phone rang for a long time before he answered. “I’m literally already here,” was the first thing that came out of his mouth. “Don’t be mad. Did it start already?”

“No, but it’s about to.” You couldn’t mask the annoyance in your tone. “Just move faster. Where the hell are you, anyway?”

You felt a tap on your shoulder. “Here.”

“What the fuck took you so long?” You nagged as you handed him the invitation along with the program booklet. You pinned the parents’ ribbon on the right side of his suit. “Sehun’s pissed.”

“Nah, he loves me too much,” Baekhyun joked which earned him a glare from you. He backtracked, “The show went over for a few minutes, okay? It’s not like I had a say in it. Get mad at Chanyeol, not me.”

“Whatever,” you dismissed his explanation. “Take the stairs to the left when you enter the hall. That’s where the graduates’ parents are seated.”

“Okay,” he said before giving you a kiss on the cheek. “See you later!” And he was gone before you could realize you were blushing.

 

“That’s for being late,” Sehun said as he punched his brother’s arm.

Baekhyun groaned. “I wasn’t late! I was right on time! Jesus, what is up with the two of you today?”

You couldn’t help but smile at the siblings’ banter, which you saw a lot when you were still tutoring Sehun for the essay writing contest. Though he didn’t clinch first place at the competition, he still achieved a podium finish, earning him a medal along with his other awards when his name was called during the program.

Sehun was offered a summer internship at the newspaper publication house for his work, which he gladly accepted. Unfortunately, the newspapers’ headquarters was in the Big City, so he would have to move out of their house way before his first semester at university started.

You weren’t supposed to play favorites among your students, but it was no secret that that distinction belonged to Sehun, not because he was your boyfriend’s brother, but because he was truly one of the best in his class. It will be hard to let him go, but it was inevitable, anyway. Sehun promised to visit home often if his schedule allowed him.

“Congratulations, Sehun,” you said as you hugged him. “I’m gonna miss seeing you in class.”

“Yeah, me too,” he admitted. “I hope my college professors don’t suck.”

“Your parents would be proud of you if they were here. I’m sure of it.”

Sehun pulled away, his eyes brimming with tears. You knew how much he missed his parents. It wasn’t something he would ever get over, especially during occasions like this where they should be here. You were sure that they were looking down at him from wherever they were with proud smiles on their faces as they watch their youngest son achieve a milestone in his life.

Baekhyun hugged him next, muttering something you couldn’t catch as his back was facing you, but whatever he said made Sehun finally cry.

“Okay, now stop crying,” Baekhyun said as he broke the hug. “You’re ugly when you cry.”

“Well, you’re ugly even if you’re not crying,” Sehun countered, sniffing as he dabbed his tears away with his handkerchief. “I hate you.”

Baekhyun chuckled. “When are you moving out?”

“Why? You want me out of the house already?” Sehun said as he playfully glared at him. “Maybe next week. Don’t have sex in the house too much. Our neighbors might file a noise complaint.”

“Sehun!” Baekhyun shouted in horror while your cheeks flushed red.

* * *

You grunted as you heaved a box full of things you didn’t have use for any longer—the third one you’ve packed so far today—when you heard a familiar voice emanating from your front door.

You frowned as you made your way downstairs. You weren’t expecting to see Baekhyun today since he told you yesterday that he would be driving Sehun to the city today along with most of his stuff from their house, so you assumed that Baekhyun would be out the whole day.

“Please don’t tell me you’re moving too,” Baekhyun said as he eyed the mess that was your living room, with boxes that were yet to be filled scattered everywhere.

You laughed at Baekhyun’s disturbed expression and approached him to kiss his cheek. “I’m not going anywhere, Baek. I’m just weeding out the things I don’t need anymore. I do this for summer every year.”

“Oh,” he exhaled as relief washed over his face. “For a second there I thought you were going to leave me.”

“I’m not gonna even respond to that because I know it’s just a trap for me to say something cheesy,” you said as you picked up an empty box and threw it at him, which he caught with no problem. “Well, since you’re here, might as well help me with my summer cleaning.”

 

The two of you spent the afternoon just like that, putting things into boxes with the occasional kiss on the cheek and hug from behind (mostly from Baekhyun because he had an attention span similar to that of a hamster).

Whenever he found something even mildly interesting, like the vinyl record of The Clash gifted to you by Chanyeol way back on your eighteenth birthday, he stopped filing just to talk about it as if he would implode if he went without saying anything even just for a few minutes.

“What’s this?”

“It’s a vinyl, Baek.”

“Where’d you get it?”

“Chanyeol gave it to me.”

“Why’d he give it to you?”

Inane questions like that came and went, and really, you should be given an award for being able to tolerate Baekhyun’s annoying ass and not once getting irritated. Maybe it was a skill you’ve acquired after months of being with him.

When all the unnecessary clutter in your apartment was put into boxes and stacked neatly in one corner of the living room, you and Baekhyun just sat on the couch in comfortable silence as both of you stuffed your faces with pizza and cola after a long day of cleaning.

“Thanks for helping me,” you said, turning your head to face him.

“It’s not like I had a choice with you throwing boxes at my face—” You glared at him. “I’m joking. It was nothing, really. I could do this every day,” Baekhyun backtracked.

You couldn’t help but laugh, and that was always the case when you were with him. It never ceased to amaze you how Baekhyun always knew the right words to say that would put a smile on your face. You could get used to this forever. Being with Baekhyun for that long didn’t seem so bad.

“I really enjoyed today. Really,” Baekhyun said, his voice the softest it has been today. “I know you don’t like me saying stuff like this, but… today reminded me of those sappy movies where the newly-married couple fixes their stuff in their new house and, I don’t know. This is going to sound _really_ corny and I hope you don’t disown me for this but I just thought… damn, I couldn’t wait to do those things with you.”

Fire.

That’s how it felt in your chest right now.

Without saying anything, you stood up from the couch and went to your room. When you got back, Baekhyun was also on his feet with fear in his eyes.

“I’m sorry for saying stuff like that and I know you want to take things slow and really I was just talking out of my ass and—” Baekhyun rambled on.

You just smiled at him. “I’m not mad, Baek. Surprised, yes. Flustered? Definitely. I think…”

“Wait,” he cut you off. “What’s that?” He asked, pointing to the canvas you were holding behind your back.

Before you could even answer, he took the painting from your hands and held it up, his eyes getting lost in every color and stroke in the frame. It was a painting you were supposed to give him on his birthday, but you started it a bit too late so it wasn’t completely dry by then. Funnily enough, you kept on forgetting to give it to him until today.

It was a portrait of him, his features drawn to the best of your memory.

The idea came to you on one of those nights when he stayed over. He always slept on his side with his face turned to you, and you couldn’t help but stare at him, especially when his visage looked so much more beautiful as he dozed, his face painted with peace and softness you couldn’t quite describe.

“It’s me.”

“Mmm,” you hummed, gauging his expression. “It was supposed to be your birthday gift but it wasn’t dry then so I just thought to give it to you some other day, but then I kept on forgetting and I only remembered just now,” you ranted on. “Do you like it?”

Baekhyun gingerly put down the painting on the couch and gave you the warmest embrace he has ever given. “I love it. Thank you,” he whispered in your ear.

The two of you stayed just like that, engulfed in your own little bubble where nothing else mattered outside your space. But Baekhyun’s next words were enough to break the spell.

“I am so in love with you.”

 

 

**9.**

“Your hands are so cold.”

Chanyeol’s head snapped right up at your remark, his round eyes clouded with a haphazard of emotions too mixed up to distinguish. His gaze was saying a million different things at the same time, like it always did when he was nervous. But you’ve never seen him _this_ unsettled.

He was seated as you stood before him and fixed his hair, his hands planted so firmly on your waist that you could feel the icy tension from them seeping through the fabric of your dress.

“I’m just so nervous,” Chanyeol said, his voice rough and low. “I’m about to go crazy.”

You gave him a small smile. “Don’t be. Everything’s going to be okay. I made sure of it.”

Chanyeol only sighed at that and then pressed his forehead against your stomach like how a child would to their mother. You almost laughed at how silly Chanyeol was acting if it wasn’t for the way his chest was heaving that made it look like he was about to cry.

“Yeol, get off,” you gently said, not wanting to press the wrong button. “Your hair’s not easy to style, you know. And you’re gonna ruin my dress.”

He slowly let go and looked up at you. “What if—”

You immediately stopped his lips with your finger. “Don’t start with the what ifs. Trust me, if you start it now, you’re only going to make yourself even more nervous than you are right now.”

Chanyeol smiled for the first time today since you saw him, and it looked like he was actually calming down a bit.

“I was just thinking… What if things went our way?” He said with his tone brimming with nostalgia. “What if it was the two of us instead of you and Baekhyun or me and Joohyun. Doesn’t it cross your mind, how things would be very different if not for The Dream?”

 _Every single day_ , you wanted to say.

“It doesn’t matter now, Yeol,” you said decisively. “You shouldn’t even be thinking about that.”

Chanyeol stood up, and now it was your turn to look up at him. “Yeah, I know,” he whispered. “It’s just… what if.”

If the story of you and Chanyeol could be compressed into two meager words, _what if_ was perfect. But at the same time, it was so much more than that. It was hard not to think of all that could have happened differently, especially now that a sense of irrevocability hung in the air because something about today was so… final.

But if there’s anything that you’ve learned from loving Chanyeol, it’s that sometimes, some things were better left to the imagination and that not all things need to have a conclusion. That was why Chanyeol would always be a part of you, no matter where you are and no matter whom you’re with. He was just there, a comforting presence in the midst of unfamiliarity and a home to go back to whenever things got too much.

He was the best kind of friend you could ever ask for, and maybe that was what he was meant to be from the start. Nothing more, nothing less.

“When my kids ask me about my first love, I’ll tell them about you.”

“Well, I can’t wait to see the confusion on their faces,” you chuckled as you smoothed Chanyeol’s crisp white suit with your hands. You picked up the red rose corsage on the vanity table and pinned it to left side of his coat. “There, all done. Now, let’s get my best friend married.”

 

Almost a year after Chanyeol met Joohyun, he came to your apartment unannounced one evening. It was Baekhyun who answered the door then, completely surprised that a breathless Chanyeol was standing in the doorway, holding a small, robin egg blue box in his hand.

Confused, Baekhyun called you from the kitchen as you were preparing dinner and it was when your eyes landed on the box that things began to make sense.

Chanyeol said that he ran all the way from the jeweler’s down to your apartment as soon as he bought the ring because he wanted his best friend to be the first to know and to be the first to slap some sense into him in case he was taking things too fast.

But all you ever said to him was, “Yeol, you wouldn’t have bought the ring if you weren’t serious about Joohyun.”

And that was all he needed to hear.

Now, seeing utter happiness in Chanyeol’s eyes as he watched Joohyun walking down the aisle made your heart feel like it was on fire, not in a negative way, but rather, in a way that made you feel like love could conquer everything.

You always felt that way about weddings. The love that exuded from the bride and groom’s eyes were enough to make you believe that love truly did move mountains and part seas, and it made you wonder how it would feel like if you were in the bride’s shoes, looking at the man that was the rest of your life. It was overwhelming, but at the same time, so gratifying.

Baekhyun slipped his hand in yours and squeezed it once as Chanyeol and Joohyun exchanged vows, like he was uttering a silent promise to you as well.

 

You stared at the ocean as it danced for the moon, burying your feet into the soft sand as the music from the reception slowly died down.

When the wave of guests began thinning, you slipped yourself out of the gazebo and made your way to the shore to have some time alone, but mostly just to take in the late night sea breeze because it wasn’t every day that you got the chance to go to the beach at night.

Familiar arms snaked around your waist and Baekhyun’s comforting musk wafted through your nose. He smelled like his perfume mixed with sweet wine, and though you hadn’t had a sip at the party, it was enough to intoxicate your senses.

“What are you doing here, babe?” He whispered, his soft lips just barely grazing your ear and sending shivers through your spine.

“I just wanted to look at the water,” you replied as you leaned in further in his embrace. “Baek, you’re not drunk, are you? I don’t want to haul your ass back to the room.”

“I’m not,” he promised, his nose scrunching as it always did when he laughed. He held your hand and spun you around so that you were now facing him with his hands on your curves and yours around his neck. “I only had one glass and then I washed it off with a shit ton of water. You know that alcohol and I don’t mix very well,” he said.

It was true. He never lasted very long when you and the other guys went out for drinks, and you’ve had your fair share of instances where you had to call Sehun to help bring him home. The morning after those nights usually entailed a fight between you and Baekhyun, but even so, all that Baekhyun needed to do was pout and whine about his hangover and you would drop everything just to take care of him.

It was crazy how much he meant to you.

Moments like this when the two of you just enjoyed each other’s presence while you got lost in the eyes of one another amplified your love for him that was already too much for your heart to begin with and made every single cell in your body sting with the desire to finally press your lips against his.

“I wish I was drunk right now,” you said.

“Why?”

“So I’d have the courage to kiss you.”

He stared at you for a few seconds, completely taken aback by your candor.

When he still didn’t say anything and just continued to look at you with surprise, you reiterated: “Baek, I’m literally telling you to kiss me right now.”

Baekhyun didn’t need to be told twice.

His lips were everything you imagined they would be: soft yet strong, gentle yet commanding, and kind yet ensnaring. You could still taste the wine off of them, and it made you slightly wonder if he was really being truthful about drinking just one glass.

But you couldn’t care less about the amount he had drank, not when you were finally kissing him like you’ve always thought and wanted. You couldn’t remember the last time you were high off of alcohol, but you were sure that Baekhyun’s lips had the same effect as liquor—suave at first until the punch hits you like a tidal wave that completely washes away all your inhibitions.

The next thing you knew you were back in your hotel room, peeling each other of layer after layer in more ways than one while your mouths continued their push and pull like the other was oxygen that the two of you needed to survive.

And maybe it was a good thing that you took it slow with Baekhyun, because now that all the pent up lust and longing and desire have gushed out, it made everything more intense and vivid and scintillating that it almost made you forget who you were and how to breathe and what your life before Baekhyun felt like.

His hands painstakingly travelled over all your curves and crevices and every dive he made sent you over the moon, a symphony of moans and whimpers in between proclamations of love bouncing off the walls of the room with Baekhyun as the composer behind it all.

Soon, the two of you were nothing but breathless bodies and tangled limbs on top of the sheets. Baekhyun traced lines on your spine with his slender fingers and looked at you like you were everything that was good in the world. He looked beautiful like this, his hair disheveled and his skin flushed, as you gently brushed his swollen lips and the mole just right above it.

“I love you.”

It was the first time that you were the first to say it. You wanted to say so much more because I love you simply didn’t cover it, but all your years of teaching and writing Literature failed you because Baekhyun took all of your words the moment he took your heart, and no amount of pronouncements could ever perfectly capture the way he made you feel.

He kissed you again, his lips tasting sweeter than before.

Then, your vision shifted—quite literally—and one moment it was the best night of your life and the next you were back inside your worst nightmare.

Everything was in slow motion: the forward movement of your car as you attempted to cross the intersection, the eighteen-wheeler hurling at the passenger side, the spinning, the skidding, the cracking of glass and bones… It was the most vivid nightmare that you’ve ever had.

You remembered feeling weightless, like your skeleton was made of feathers and your skin made of paper, but at the same time, every single corner of your body hurt like you’ve been beaten from head to toe, the pain of that multiplied by so much that you should’ve passed out from the agony.

If it wasn’t for _that_ voice…

“I need an ambulance right now,” he said, the words barely making out of his lips as his body shook so much that he almost looked like he was spasming. “A woman… I don’t know who she is. Then there was this truck… We’re at the town border, at the large intersection. No, I wasn’t the one that hit her! I was right behind her and I honked so hard to warn her but everything happened so fast…”

Your eyes were open and yet you could only look at the pastel colored sky, unable to move any muscle in your body. You could see and hear, but apart from that, you were completely frozen as you laid helpless on the asphalt.

The man suddenly came into view and you realized that he was looking over you. The color of his hair changed at his every movement, seemingly reflecting the hues induced by the sunset. Was his hair blonde? Platinum? Translucent, perhaps?

The serious part of your brain that was still surprisingly working told you that this wasn’t the time for guessing the real hair color of this mystery man, but you couldn’t help it. You wanted to focus on something, anything, other than the excruciating pain you were feeling. Even breathing was agonizing.

“Please be alive,” the man said over and over again like a chant, his downturned eyes slowly filling with tears.

 _Why are you crying for me?_ You wanted to ask him but all that probably came out of your mouth was a pathetic grunt.

The sirens then came. You recalled being carried off by people and put into an ambulance, and when the doors of the car closed, everything went black.

You returned to the present.

You were still in bed with Baekhyun, but now his eyes were shaking as he looked at you.

“Did you…”

“…see that?”

You finished each other’s sentences and then the two of you slowly nodded at your mutual question.

Minseok’s voice started playing in your mind: _I call it The Vision. It’s when you know that you and your destined partner had The Dream at the same exact time._ _The magic of it is that the two of you would see the exact moment when you first met._

“It was you,” you managed to say despite the chill that just ran through you. “You were there. You were the car behind me.”

Baekhyun nodded again, but he didn’t look too surprised. It was like he was more stunned about The Vision the two of you just had instead of what you said. Perhaps…

“Did you know?” You asked him as your mind slowly began putting the pieces together. “Do you… remember me? From that day?”

Come to think of it, all the signs pointed to that possibility. At Chanyeol’s birthday party, when you were having a panic attack, Baekhyun looked too concerned about you than a stranger should be. When you casually ran into him at Mrs. Song’s café, he spoke to you like an old friend. The way he acted since you first met was so casual and natural, like he knew you from somewhere.

But of course he would know you.

He saved your life.

“I don’t forget a face,” Baekhyun said. “Especially not yours. That was the most horrifying day of my life as it was yours. I thought you were going to die.”

The intricacy of it all astounded you.

The man who saved your life was Baekhyun, and he turned out to be your soulmate. Not only that, but you met him at sunset, which was probably the reason why you’ve always had this weird connection to it, like it was a reminder of something important… like it was a reminder of _someone_ important.

Minseok was right once again.

 _Baekhyun’s more special than you think he is_. _  
_

**10.**

“Mongryong, stop eating Baekhyun’s shoes!” You squealed as you immediately snatched away the left pair of Baekhyun’s sneakers from the puppy’s mouth. He whimpered and ran back upstairs, probably to search for more shoes to chew on.

When you and Baekhyun were taking your usual afternoon jog around town, the two of you passed by a pet house where a small Welsh Corgi was displayed by the window with a printout that said _Adopt Me?_ taped right beside its cage.

For some reason, Baekhyun had an instant connection with the puppy as the two of them looked at each other through the window, probably because they looked alike. So Baekhyun adopted the dog purely based on impulse and the rest was history.

“It looks like a potato,” you remarked when you first brought Mongryong home.

“Yes,” Baekhyun agreed. “And he’s cute.”

Well, you couldn’t argue with that.

It has almost been three weeks since Mongryong became part of the family, and he and Baekhyun have become inseparable even in such a short amount of time. Mongryong slept on the floor at Baekhyun’s side of the bed, ate below Baekhyun at the dinner table, and even sat with Baekhyun on the couch when he watched TV. The only time they were apart was when Baekhyun was either in the shower or at work.

Yes, it was cute and all, until the puppy grew the habit of chewing the shoes—fortunately, it was usually Baekhyun’s—around the house.

“He’s teething,” Sehun expressionlessly remarked as he sat on the couch.

“He already has teeth!”

Sehun just shrugged. “Dunno, that’s what it said on Google when I searched for why dogs chew on shoes.”

“You’re no help at all, you know that?” You rolled your eyes at him. “What are you even doing here? Aren’t you supposed to be in the city for your internship?”

“Baekhyun wanted my help for something, so I lied and called in sick,” Sehun explained, and before you could ask what Baekhyun needed his help for, he added, “Don’t ask. It would ruin the whole thing.” He then checked the time on his phone. “And he should be calling you right about…” Your phone rang. “Now.”

Every time Baekhyun and the other guys acted weird, it was about a surprise for you of some sort. You were certain that this time wasn’t any different, but the fact that Baekhyun got Sehun into it too was kind of worrying since Sehun wasn’t exactly free most of the time as he was taking most of his majors this semester and he had to juggle his internship at the publication house at the same time. Sehun loved that internship, and for him to lie to his boss about being sick didn’t seem like something he would do unless it was a life or death situation.

“Sehun’s acting weird,” you immediately said as you accepted Baekhyun’s call.

His laughter resonated through the speaker. “Yeah, I paid him to do that. Listen… remember the camping site we went to on your birthday when we watched the meteor shower?”

“Yes. Why?”

“I need you to go there right now. As in _now_ ,” Baekhyun emphasized. “Don’t say anything and just drive there. Trust me, okay? I’m not hanging up until I hear you get in the car.”

“Fine,” you muttered. You grabbed your car keys and coat and let Sehun know that you were going out—not that he didn’t already know—and got inside your car, slamming the door so that Baekhyun would hear it. “Heard that? I’m in.”

“Good. I’m almost there, and I think I’ll arrive just before sundown. Meet me then.”

You hummed in understanding. “Okay. I’m hanging up now. I can’t talk while I’m driving.”

“Yeah, I’m driving too. See you!” He chirped, and the last time you heard him _this_ excited was when he went to adopt Mongryong. “I love—”

That was when you heard it: the sound that used to haunt you in your sleep, when you closed your eyes, or when you sat still for too long—the shrill sound of metal scraping against asphalt that sent shocks through your muscles and prickled your skin and erected the hair on your arms.

You could almost smell the gasoline burning through your nose, invisible hands closing in around your throat and taking the air away from your lungs. You were paralyzed with fear, the image induced by the sound of tires skidding and glass cracking bringing back unwelcome memories of the darkest and longest day of your life.

Static resonated from the other line as tears raced down from your eyes down to your cheeks and then to your chin and dripped unto your lap. Frantic voices came after and soon did the sirens, and you wanted to scream at the sky and ask whoever was up there as to why they were letting your hear this and why didn’t the call just disconnect.

You rushed back to the house to tell Sehun.

* * *

The worst kind of goodbye is the one no one saw coming.

As a writer, you’ve written far too many endings to know when one was about to come, but this one completely caught you off guard. It wasn’t supposed to end already. There were still so many things yet to happen. This was equivalent to writing a story and abandoning it just as things were starting to get good.

This was unfair.

When the surgeon came out of the operating room with a somber look on his face, you knew what news he was going to deliver even before he took off his surgical mask to speak. You didn’t understand the technicalities he was explaining, because only one thing came across: Baekhyun was gone.

He was gone, and it felt like he took all things soft and beautiful and bright with him.

That night, Sehun returned to the city to arrange documents for his request of leave of absence at school while Chanyeol and Joohyun drove you back to the house that Baekhyun and you shared.

You called it a house because it wasn’t home anymore, not when Baekhyun wasn’t there anymore to make it so.

The entire duration of the drive was spent in silence. No one uttered a single word and you didn’t even cry, as if the reality that Baekhyun was never coming back hasn’t sunk in on anyone yet. It was too cruel to believe, that the universe would let you meet your other half only for him to be taken away in such short notice.

When you arrived at the house, Mongryong was waiting by the front door, his ears drooping down and his eyes looking at you with sadness, like he already what happened.

“Mongryong…” you murmured as you sat down on the floor to pet him. “It’s just me tonight,” you began, the overdue tears finally coming. “Baekhyun’s not coming home tonight.”

The puppy whimpered as you continued to pet his fur. Mongryong was always so full of energy, but now he was sluggish, and you weren’t sure if you were seeing things because of everything you were feeling, but you could’ve sworn that his eyes were watering.

“Baekhyun’s not coming home,” you repeated amidst your sobs. “He’s never coming home.”

 

One of the most awful things about losing Baekhyun is that it happens again every single morning.

Usually, when you woke up and found his bed empty, he was at the kitchen making breakfast. But now you knew that when you leave the room and go downstairs, there would be no Baekhyun singing as he fried eggs and brewed coffee. There would be no good mornings from him as he plated the food and set the table. There would be no morning kisses as you sat down on the dining table. There would be no Baekhyun there. There would be no Baekhyun everywhere.

Everything in the house reminded you of this fact—the piano in the living room, the cups he used in the kitchen cabinets, the candles he used to light every night before he went to sleep, the couch where the two of you cuddled in when it was raining outside, and even though it was painful to think about how the house was so empty without Baekhyun’s laughter resonating through it, it also gave you comfort because it reminded you that he was real, that he wasn’t a figment of your imagination, that he wasn’t some character in a fictional story.

He was gone, but his memory in you was still very much alive.

But the memories weren’t enough to dull the throbbing in your chest whenever you realized that you would never get to see his smile again or hear his laughter or hold his hand or run your fingers through his hair or taste his lips or feel his touch on your skin.

You didn’t just want to remember him. You wanted him here. But that would never happen.

Mongryong didn’t chew the shoes around the house anymore. He just laid by the front door every single day, as if he was still waiting for Baekhyun to burst through the door with a bright smile on his face and greet him like he did when he was still here.

You didn’t know if the puppy understood what you told him the night Baekhyun died or if he was just doing that because he missed him terribly. You couldn’t blame him. Sometimes, you still find yourself hoping that all of this was just a terrible dream that you would soon wake up from.

During the wake, however, everything became so real.

Seeing Baekhyun’s picture surrounded by a hundred flowers sent you back to Earth, back to the reality that you were living in a world without him.

It drained all your energy to face people and accept their condolences. You just wanted to grieve in peace, away from everyone else where you could cry so loud and not worry about causing a scene, but even though Sehun was the chief mourner, you couldn’t let him do everything by himself.

The two of you were the only family Baekhyun left behind, and you had to be strong not just for yourselves, but also for each other.

Sehun ushered their distant relatives who came to pay their respects even though they didn’t know Baekhyun that well nor were close to their family, while you answered people that knew Baekhyun after he moved in town, which were mostly people that he knew from work and your mutual friends and acquaintances.

Minseok visited on the second day of the wake.

“I’m so sorry for your loss,” he said as he took your hands into his. His expression was exuding grief and heartache even though he had never met Baekhyun. You figured that he was hurting for you. “Junmyeon sends his deepest condolences. He couldn’t come because he has a conference to attend to.”

“Thank you, Minseok,” you managed a weak smile. “Tell Junmyeon I said thanks, too. It’s okay that he couldn’t come. He didn’t know Baekhyun much, anyway.”

He cleared his throat before speaking. “He… he also wants me to tell you to go see him as soon as possible. He said that he’ll send you a text once he gets home.”

“For what?”

“He thinks that Baekhyun’s… passing will trigger some episodes,” he explained, and you noticed how he avoided using the word death. You were thankful for it, though. Death is such an ugly word. “He’s just worried, that’s all. He doesn’t want to risk a relapse, not when you’ve gotten so much better.”

You hadn’t thought about that. You were so caught up in your grief that it didn’t occur to you that this would have implications on your condition, even if you stopped treatment a long time ago.

“Actually, it’s a cross consultation,” he added. “You’ll be seeing him with me simultaneously, given the nature of the situation. Baekhyun isn’t just anyone. He’s you’re soulmate. And Junmyeon and I think that it’s best if I also oversee your counseling.”

“Okay.”

Minseok gave you a reassuring squeeze on your shoulder. “We can start a few days after the funeral. We’ll give you some time to grieve alone. Just come by the clinic when you’re ready.”

You nodded and he gave you one last hug before he made his way to Sehun to offer his condolences.

 

The funeral was probably the hardest part.

It was supposed to be the final goodbye, but that was the problem: you didn’t want to say goodbye to Baekhyun. You weren’t ready to let him go just yet, and you probably never will be.

The ceremony was shorter than usual because you and Sehun refused to give eulogies. It was an agreement between the two of you, to keep everything you wanted to say to Baekhyun for the last time written in letters that would be buried with him, and it wasn’t because the two of you simply didn’t want to eulogize Baekhyun, but because your relationship with him was too personal and intimate to share with anyone else. Baekhyun left too early, and you and Sehun wanted to keep a piece of him only to yourselves. You were both allowed to be selfish, right?

As Baekhyun’s coffin was being lowered, the last thing you saw was two white envelopes wedged between the white flowers, one written with _Hyung_ on its face and the other with _Moonlight_.

Sehun drove you home after that.

Mongryong was still waiting by the front door, and you wondered until when he could keep on waiting for someone who was never coming.

“Mongryong,” Sehun called the puppy, but when he didn’t come, Sehun just sat on the floor next to him. “Baekhyun’s okay, Mongryong. He’s somewhere safe. You don’t have to wait for him anymore.”

Mongryong just looked at him with sad eyes.

“Wherever Baekhyun is, I’m sure he’s happy,” Sehun said as he stroked the puppy’s head and tears fell from his eyes. “He’s with mom and dad now. I wonder if they’re talking about me.”

Those last few words were enough to send you crying once again.

Baekhyun always talked about his parents. He often shared funny and heartwarming stories when he and Sehun were children, and from them you’ve deduced that they were probably amazing people to have raised such kind children. You didn’t get the chance to meet them, but you were thankful to them every single day that they brought Baekhyun and Sehun into this world where you got to meet both of them.

“This is so fucking unfair,” you muttered before you could stop yourself. Sehun stood up from the floor and walked towards you to hug tightly. “He deserved so much more.”

“It’s okay,” Sehun tried to calm you down, but you could tell from his voice that he was also crying.

This was the hardest and loudest cry you’ve let out since the accident. “I didn’t even get to say goodbye to him. He was going to say I love you before it happened. Those were his last words to me. I didn’t get the chance to say I love him too. Even for the last time. It’s unfair.”

“You didn’t have to say that. I’m pretty sure he already knows how much you love him,” Sehun said as he soothed your back and comforted you. He pulled away and reached something from his pocket.

It was a diamond ring.

“That day… he was going to propose to you. That’s why he wanted you to meet you at The Ridges. He said that that place was special for the both of you. I was supposed to follow you there and capture the moment in a photo but…”

You stared at the ring in his palms, the tears never-ending. This was rubbing salt into the wound. On that day, he was going to ask you to marry him. It should’ve been the best day of your life.

“They found this in his pockets. They gave it to me since I’m the only remaining immediate family he had,” he said as he took your hand and slipped the ring into your fourth finger. “But this belongs to you. It will always belong to you.”

* * *

It was hard to get back on your feet.

Living without Baekhyun wasn’t easy to get used to nor wasn’t it something you wanted to get used to. But that was how it was. Nothing in the world could bring him back, and eventually, you learned how to live with that fact, as painful as it seemed.

Junmyeon and Minseok helped a lot with that.

Junmyeon never dictated you on how you should move on with your life, and instead encouraged you to do what you felt would bring you most comfort and peace, as long as it wasn’t bringing you any harm.

Minseok, on the other hand, explained the implications of losing your soulmate. He said that at first, your brain will fail to induce dreams for the first few weeks as it was the link that connected you and your other half, and now that the other end of the bond has been cut off, it would take some time for it to anchor itself to a single person as it was used to being connected to someone else.

“After that, everything should go back to normal. But…” Minseok hesitated.

“What? What is it?”

“Well… It’s just that when your soulmate dies, you can’t dream of them anymore because of the broken connection,” he said.

_What?_

“There are exceptions,” he immediately added before you could say anything that you would regret. “Soulmates who had The Vision have a special connection, more than those who didn’t. This connection makes the bond unbreakable. It transcends time and space, and yes, even death. The link between you and Baekhyun isn’t broken. It’s just that you can’t physically see where the other end of the connection is.”

“So… I can still dream about him?”

Minseok smiled. “You could even communicate with him in your dreams if you both wanted to. Just give it some time. He’ll come to you when he’s ready and when he thinks you’re ready.”

The room suddenly felt cold. “I’m not sure if that’s cool or if that’s creepy,” you frowned.

“It _is_ weird,” Minseok agreed. “But there’s a silver lining in all of this.”

“What?”

“The bond created by The Vision also transcends lifetimes,” he began. You furrowed your brows in confusion. Minseok then explained, “It means that you and Baekhyun will always be reborn in the same lifetime. The two of you will always manage to find each other, one way or another. You will always be soulmates, and nothing can break that cycle. I’m pretty sure the two of you were also soulmates in your past lives.”

Maybe life wasn’t so unfair at all, not when you get to be with Baekhyun over and over again.

* * *

A year after the accident, you saw Baekhyun again.

“It’s about damn time you talked to me,” you scolded him as soon as you saw him in your dream. “You really made me wait for a year.”

Baekhyun’s face broke into a laugh, and after not hearing the beautiful sound of his laughter for so long, you couldn’t help but cry at how much you missed it, at how much you missed him.

“It’s been so long since we saw each other and you cry on me.”

“Shut up,” you said in between sobs, the tears not stopping any time soon. “I hate you.”

Baekhyun smiled as he put his arms around you, his scent and warmth enveloping you. You almost forgot how his hugs felt like, and you just wanted to stay frozen in that moment forever and never wake up.

“You told me to meet you at sundown, but you never came,” you wept as Baekhyun cupped your cheeks and wiped your tears away with his thumb.

“I’m sorry,” he whispered. “I’m here now, and I’m never going away ever again.”

He molded his lips into yours, softly at first, like he was kissing you for the first time all over again, but soon he breathed you in like air and all the time spent apart from each other faded into the background. Nothing else was more significant than this moment right here, and even though you were aware that it was just a dream, you allowed yourself to believe it was real.

 

After that, you met Baekhyun every single day when the sun set.

As the city fell asleep and so did you, he visited your dreams like he first did years ago. There, it was perpetually the golden hour; everything was coated with the undertones of fading daylight and there he was, sitting in the middle of it all where he waited for you to come to him and fulfill your promise of meeting him at sundown, which you did for the rest of your life.

_  
_

**Epilogue**

“What the fuck?” You cursed at the guy who just bumped into you rather hardly and made you spill your iced coffee all over your white shirt. You were already late for class to begin with, and then this douchebag inconveniences you even further. “You asshole—”

“I’m sorry!”

_Wait. Pause._

You’ve seen him before.

“You…”

“…you?”

You both said at the same time.

You stared at every detail of his face to make sure you weren’t mistaken. Those droopy eyes, those downturned lips and the freckle just above it, that silver hair… It _was_ him. He was the one in The Dream that visited you about a week ago.

But there was also this weird feeling in your gut that you knew him even before The Dream, like you knew him from some time ago you just couldn’t put your finger on…

“You’re my soulmate, aren’t you? I saw you in The Dream,” the asshole-turned-soulmate said.

“Yeah… I think so?”

“Well… since we’re going to be spending a lot of time with each other I suggest we start off nicely. How about I buy you a fresh shirt and a new cup of coffee?”

Suddenly, you didn’t care whether you were late for class or not.

“What was your name again?”

“Baekhyun,” he smiled.

**Author's Note:**

> Playlist (listen to it [here](https://open.spotify.com/user/mb341q9g08ycuthfo18wez2v1/playlist/5IFjP1Htj9egAobrvSGvDx?si=JY05lt5DTYaBQIuSfJFE2w)):  
> 1\. EXO - She's Dreaming  
> 2\. Hale - Underneath the Waves  
> 3\. Sam Kim - SEATTLE  
> 4\. IV of Spades - Mundo  
> 5\. Over October - Arbitrary  
> 6\. COIN - Malibu 1992  
> 7\. Ebe Dancel - Lakambini - Version 2  
> 8\. 3D (Danao, Dumas, Dancel) - Burnout  
> 9\. Justin Hurwitz - Mia & Sebastian's Theme - From "La La Land" Soundtrack  
> 10\. Erik Satie - Gymnopédie No. 1
> 
> Thank you for reading until the end! Say hello: [Tumblr](http://pcychedelic.tumblr.com/) / [Twitter](http://twitter.com/pcychedeiic/)
> 
> If you enjoyed this fic, please consider supporting what I do by [buying me a coffee](https://ko-fi.com/pcychedelic). ♡


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